


Reasons Why I Am Alive

by Manadrite



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Fools in Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Implied Suicide, Misconceptions, Reckless Behavior, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-08 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15252837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manadrite/pseuds/Manadrite
Summary: Running Analysis...Feeling - AbsentHeart - OmittedEmotion - UnaccountedDiagnosisĆ̶̥̹͈̭͉̻̜̯͜o̶̘̻͆͗͂n̶̢̧͚͉͉͖̤̗͕̝̠̦̞͋͊͐͊̎̊̇̽̚n̸̺̠̳͊̑̅̄̆̍̈͆͊̀͆̓̓̚͜ö̶̧̩̝͒̂̾́̈́r̶̡̧̢̛͙̗̞̘̟̯̬̖̩̉̈́̍̈̋ͅ ̶̬̼̳̦͓̳͈̫̗̭̖͇̲́͑̽̀̈́͑́͘ḯ̴̥͙̯̰͖͇͔̠͉̱͙̱̅̋̔̏̈͝s̵̨̢̹̗̮̪̤̱̋̐͋̕̚͘ ̸̧̢̛̗͈͉̗̦̣̔̾̀̃͜͝ǹ̵̟̝͆ơ̷̲͍̅̇̈͛̂̀͂͗͌̓̇̀͋̄ẗ̵̡͉̤͓͔̯̫̜̯̗̾͛́͒́̏ ̸̧̭̲̣͍̍̏̾̋̊̌̔̿̀͝͠a̴̡̞̤̍̋̎̈́̾́̇̅̈́͗̂̔l̷̮̙̤͍͕̯̥̪͐͗̎͑̅́̏͋͆͋̆̈́̚͜͠í̷̤̠͆̓̾̏͛͝v̴̡̳̤̥͚̠̭͓̰̪͙͗͋̇̎̕ȩ̵̧͕͔͖͚͎̰̳̲̲̄͌.n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠If I bleed, I am alive.If I can be hurt, I am alive.If I can die, I am alive.





	1. Running Analysis

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE DO NOT POST ANYWHERE, WITH OR WITHOUT PERMISSION, I OWN THIS AND EVERY ONE OF MY WORKS, I DO NOT TOLERATE PLAGERISM OR NONCONSENSUAL POSTING

Connor would like to say, the moment he deviated, he was alive. 

 

But that would be a lie.

 

Connor would like to say, the month after the revolution, he was alive.

 

That would still be a lie. 

 

Connor would like to say, he was alive.

 

Yet, it would still be nothing but a filthy lie. 

 

* * *

 

Some days, he still felt like a machine. 

 

Staring through a screen at a world he could only analyze. 

 

He looked at the sky and saw blue.

 

The blue component of the spectrum of visible light has shorter wavelengths and higher frequencies than the red components. Hence it reflects blue.

 

He was not taught through slide cards and patient voices, who pointed at simple blaring color and called it blue.

 

He had no pleasure of being “taught.”

 

He was a state of the art prototype.

 

He wasn’t supposed to be  _ taught _ , he was supposed to  _ know _ , supposed to  _ teach _ , supposed to  _ be _ …

 

What?

 

What was he supposed to be?

 

A murderer.

 

Born from malicious desires, molded and painted by blue and red alike, carved in frigidity, lacking in empathy, released from a cage that was never locked by a golden heart who still thought he unlocked chains. 

 

The only chains that existed were his own making.

 

Crafted from the metal of his bones, the ice of a mockery of blood that flowed throughout his artificial body. 

 

* * *

 

Making lists helped.

 

Hank grumbled about it, called the notebooks filled to the brimmed with words, numbers, and organized thoughts a waste of time.

 

_ “How the fuck are you supposed to start your life if you’re always falling back on those stupid lists instead of actually living?” _

 

Life.

 

Living.

 

He didn’t understand.

 

Connor began to observe, to study, to understand.

 

He wasn’t supposed to  _ not know. _

 

But he didn’t  _ understand. _

 

Markus told him he was alive.

 

Connor didn’t feel alive.

 

Hank told him to live.

 

Connor doesn’t think knows how.

 

So he makes a list.

 

He watches Hank.

 

He watches Markus.

 

He watches North.

 

He watches Simon.

 

He watches Josh.

 

He observes until he can create a list. 

  
**If I feel, I am alive** .

_ Hank sighs when he sinks his fingers into Sumo’s fur. Shivers from the cold. Smiles at warmth. Dizzy from alcohol. Groggy from restless sleeping. Feels itchy from wool. Eyes burn from onions. Relaxed and comfortable in his huge hoodies. He looks  _ **_alive._ **

Connor touches Sumo, he feels nothing but the pressure. Walks outside and does not notice a thing, cold, hot? What was the difference? Textures, scents, smells, sensations, touches, he doesn’t feel anything.

  
  


**If I have a heart, I am alive** .

_ Hank’s heart speeds up when he watches a game, when he finds something interesting, when he’s surprised or shocked. It’s a constant. Connor likes to listen to it, to hear the rhythmic beat of the thudding sign of life in his chest. So vital, so important, so  _ **_alive_ ** _. _

Connor does not have a heart. His regulator whirs, it reminds him how much of a machine he actually is. It does not beat, it does not speed, it is not alive. 

 

**If I have emotions, I am alive.**

_ Markus smiles, his eyes light in joy. North shoves Josh, laughter in her voice. Simon looks at them with compassion painted on his face. They gesture at him, so welcoming despite how  _ **_w̷̢͎̓ ̷̮̈́̚͠r̸̠͛͑ ̴̺͌͋o̸͇͑͘ ̴̱͙̝̐̄͆͘n̷͉͔̈̆̊ ̶̧̼̖͛̒̊͋g̷̛̜̖̔_ ** _ , he was. He is  _ **_w̷̢͎̓ ̷̮̈́̚͠r̸̠͛͑ ̴̺͌͋o̸͇͑͘ ̴̱͙̝̐̄͆͘n̷͉͔̈̆̊ ̶̧̼̖͛̒̊͋g̷̛̜̖̔,_ ** _ still. North looks at him with eyes of cautious pity. Josh glances back and forth. Simon bites his lip and glances at Markus with concern in his voice. Markus stares after with something unreadable, yet undeniably  _ **_alive_ ** _ on his face. _

Connor does not have sadness, happiness, humor, love, affection, guilt, hope. Connor does not have anything.

 

**Running Analysis…**

 

**Feeling - Absent**

**Heart - Omitted**

**Emotion - Unaccounted**

 

**Diagnosis**

 

**_Ć̶̥̹͈̭͉̻̜̯͜o̶̘̻͆͗͂n̶̢̧͚͉͉͖̤̗͕̝̠̦̞͋͊͐͊̎̊̇̽̚n̸̺̠̳͊̑̅̄̆̍̈͆͊̀͆̓̓̚͜ö̶̧̩̝͒̂̾́̈́r̶̡̧̢̛͙̗̞̘̟̯̬̖̩̉̈́̍̈̋ͅ ̶̬̼̳̦͓̳͈̫̗̭̖͇̲́͑̽̀̈́͑́͘ḯ̴̥͙̯̰͖͇͔̠͉̱͙̱̅̋̔̏̈͝s̵̨̢̹̗̮̪̤̱̋̐͋̕̚͘ ̸̧̢̛̗͈͉̗̦̣̔̾̀̃͜͝ǹ̵̟̝͆ơ̷̲͍̅̇̈͛̂̀͂͗͌̓̇̀͋̄ẗ̵̡͉̤͓͔̯̫̜̯̗̾͛́͒́̏ ̸̧̭̲̣͍̍̏̾̋̊̌̔̿̀͝͠a̴̡̞̤̍̋̎̈́̾́̇̅̈́͗̂̔l̷̮̙̤͍͕̯̥̪͐͗̎͑̅́̏͋͆͋̆̈́̚͜͠í̷̤̠͆̓̾̏͛͝v̴̡̳̤̥͚̠̭͓̰̪͙͗͋̇̎̕ȩ̵̧͕͔͖͚͎̰̳̲̲̄͌_ ** _. _

  
  


**_n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠_ **

 

**_n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠_ **

 

**_n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠_ **

  
  


His systems were overheating, going into overdrive, the LED burning red. 

 

He  _ knew _ .

  
  
  


He  **_knew_ ** .

  
  
  


He  **_k̵̝̈́͂́̀͜ņ̶̛̠͙̯̬̑̀̀͋̎͘ȩ̷̢̳̟̦̗͔̗̻̥̳͈͔̻̪́́̐̃͋̍̊̅̀̾͑̽̎w̴̢̹̟̘̻̅̈̈́͒._ **

  
  
  


And then it happened.

 

A suspected android homicide.

 

Hank and himself were sent, having remained on Android crimes.

 

The girl was on the ground.

 

She was bleeding blue from her wrists.

 

Her regulator in her hand.

 

Hank sighed, sounding so sad, so tired, so human. 

 

“Android murder my fucking ass.”

 

“Lieutenant?” Connor questioned.

 

Hank gave a suffering look but having been resigned to the still ignorant to the world and emotions. 

 

“Do you remember that day you broke into my house and ruined my window?”

 

“I already said sorry for that,” Connor raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do you remember what I told you about Russian Roulette?”

 

Connor went quiet, “What are you saying?”

 

“They did this to themselves.”

 

“But why? That’s.. a human thing.”

 

Hank huffed a humorless laugh, “Good emotions aren’t the only kind.”

 

“But why would they do this?”

 

“Son, what makes us all the same, what makes us all alive, is the ability to bleed, hurt, and die.”

 

What once would’ve been indifference in the Lieutenant’s eyes, was empathy, sadness, pain only one could understand having experienced the pain he had.

 

Connor remembered finding Hank.

 

He thought he was dead.

 

Drowning in whiskey, playing a one bullet game, ready to meet Death.

 

Was this what it meant to be alive?

 

Long after the case was over.

 

The words resonated in his mind.

 

He never considered… never analyzed… never thought of such a thing. 

 

But Hank was… right. Undeniably right. What made something alive was the ability to  _ die. _

 

Connor found himself once again with the notebook, painfully empty, labeled in the front,  **Alive.**

 

He found himself adding to the previous list.

 

**If I bleed, I am alive.**

 

**If I can be hurt, I am alive.**

 

**If I can die, I am alive.**

 

A flicker of something resonated in him. 

 

He wasn’t truly written off as a soulless machine.

 

Not yet. 

 

He still didn’t know for sure.

 

It could always change.

 

But he can follow this, to remind himself.

 

He could try this, to prove to himself. 

 

He could experiment to show himself.

 

Maybe he  _ was…  _

 

This list… could finally make him believe.

  
  


**C̶̨̖̥̙̥̱̝͉͍͈͇̭͈̐̈́̒̍̀̅̎̉̈̃̀̽͐̊͜͝ o̷̪͕͐̐̃̽̽̂̓̽͂͠ n̸͕̫̤̫̥͇̮̥̔͐̓͐̋͂͋̕͜͝͝͝͝ n̶̨̺̠̗̺̣͕͔͕̈́͆͋̌͛͛̎̇̆̕͠ ỏ̶̢̖̮̠͚̩̻̘͈̖̆͛̽͝͝ r̷̢̨̫̯͎͉̞̻̓̿͜͝ i̷̧̤̮̲̘̮̭͂̊̒̈́̌̓̿̎̃́̀̈́ ş̶̤͇̗̻͓̟̙͍̫͉̹̄̏̒͌̈́̈́́͘ͅ   ̸͙͖́͛̅͋͂͐̋̿͒̉̚͝a̴̫͕͉͖̔͒̈́̆ ľ̶̗̩̹̅̌̇͐̃͝ i̶̛̠̰͎̺͓̗͍͇͇̹̗͗̏͑̈́͊̈̽͑̀̀͋̕ v̵̨͓̦̗͈̞̻̞̺́̅̚ è̸̼̫͑̈.̴̡͚͍̯̻͉̭͚̽**

  
  



	2. Broken Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, no matter how much Amanda was supposed to be seen as the evil person holding the ropes, he couldn’t help but long to see her again.
> 
>  
> 
> He… missed her.

Perhaps it went against everything they stood for, fought for, died for, but Connor found himself waiting for the day he would be recalled and rendered obsolete.

 

No matter how much he would’ve enjoyed being free, he wasn’t.

 

It wasn’t how Cyberlife has regained control, he checked daily to assure himself that was over. The Zen Garden, once calm and beautiful, burned down into snow and ashes, void of life to the very second it was deleted from his mind.

 

No, no matter how much Amanda was supposed to be seen as the evil person holding the ropes, he couldn’t help but long to see her again.

 

He… missed her.

 

Connor knew, she was far from deviant, she didn’t trust him, and he ultimately betrayed her. She didn’t care about him, she wanted him to be killed for his actions. She nearly had him kill Markus.

 

But she had always been the one he needed.

 

She was the only person he ever wanted to impress, to make happy and  _ proud _ , he wanted to make her proud of him.

 

But she left him.

 

He knew he shouldn’t want her to come back, she was a machine in the firmest terms. Not kind like Markus, passionate like North, gentle like Josh, or compassionate like Simon. 

 

But she had been the closest thing he ever had to… what humans called a mother. But she was gone.

 

Gone.

 

Deleted.

 

Abandoned him. 

 

Connor didn’t know freedom was supposed to feel so empty.

 

* * *

 

A tanned hand waved in front of his face, Connor blinked, escaping from his thought and looked up to meet blue and green eyes and a gentle smile.

 

“It’s good to see you Connor,” He said once he saw he had gotten his attention.

 

“Hello Markus, I hope you are well, may I inquire as to why you are at the station?” Connor tilted his head, he tried to smile but his mouth didn’t cooperate, merely twitching before falling back into neutrality.

 

“North,” Markus sighed exasperated, “She had a very loud, verbal argument with a human and they were both arrested for disrupting the peace. I’m here to bail her out I suppose.”

 

Connor’s eyes furrowed, “Is she unharmed?”

 

“Yes, the only thing that’s bruised is the humans ego,” Markus shook his head. 

 

“Ah,” Connor nodded, “Do you need myself to escort you to the holding cells?”

 

“If you can? I haven’t talked to you in a while Connor, I mainly used this as an excuse to check on you. How are you?” He asked as they began walking.

 

“All my systems are in working order, I am residing with Lieutenant Anderson, and we continue to be partners on Android cases.” Connor said simply.

 

“Alright, but how are  _ you? _ ”

 

Connor blinked at him, “I just told you.”

 

“You gave me your living situation, work procedure, and system status, I want to know how you’re feeling Connor.”

 

Feeling.

 

**If I feel I am alive.**

 

Error: Incorrect Information.

 

Connor doesn’t feel.

 

He is a machine, even after deviated, he is a machine. 

 

The rest of the walk is silent, he could feel Markus’ eyes burning into him, the intense colors no doubt burning with his unwavering resolve. 

 

Soon enough they could hear smug talking.

 

“How’s your dick, bastard? Did I kick it all the way in?”

 

“Fucking  **_bitch!_ ** Officers do something!”

 

Wilson who was watching in amusement shrugged, “Nothing illegal is happening here, I don’t abuse my power on a lady standing up for herself.”

 

“Hello Officer Wilson, Markus is here to take North back, is there any release forms he must fill out?” Connor nodded at the gentle man who smiled kindly at them. 

 

“Fortunately, there’s only a small bail fee for these incidents.”

 

“Not a problem, I’ll transfer the payment and sign whatever I need to,” Markus agreed readily. 

 

“Come with me, Connor you can go ahead and let her out of the cell, it shouldn’t take too long. We’ll be back soon,” Connor nodded as they walked off, opening the cell with a quick scan, stepping back to let her out.

 

“Nice having connections to a law enforcer,” North smirked, stretching her arms and throwing the middle finger to the man in the other cell who spluttered in indignation.

 

“Officer! Arrest her!” He demanded.

 

“I believe there is no law to pointing at someone with their finger,” Connor admonished. 

 

North smirked before turning back to him, “So how is everyone’s fav poodle been doing?”

 

“I see you’ve talked to Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor deadpanned before repeating what he said to Markus.

 

“Okay but how are you doing emotionally?” North presses with a furrow of her brows.

 

Error: Incorrect Information.

 

**If I have emotions, I am alive.**

 

Connor does not have emotions.

 

North took his silence as answer and studied him quietly, “Why don’t you stop by Jericho?”

 

Why wouldn’t he? Why would he?

 

What does it matter? 

 

It changes nothing. 

 

It only brews the fear and discomfort of having a machine among people.

 

“I am… content staying at work,” The words felt like sand on his tongue, it was true he’d rather work all day and night then have to face reality. 

 

But he wasn’t content, he didn’t have the ability to be content. Why was he lying? Perhaps he didn’t want to see the people who so effortlessly treated him with kindness in which he’s never experienced before, be disappointed in him.

 

After all, they fought so hard to let Androids become more than machines, and here was Connor, still a machine.

 

“Work isn’t all there is to life Connor,” Her tone was unnaturally gentle.

 

Work was the only thing that mattered, work and keeping them all safe. 

 

He was a machine, he didn’t need to live a life. He’d gladly put theirs ahead of him. If he had to work 72 hours straight to track down murders, then he would.

 

“Why don’t you stop by when you’re walking Sumo? Simon and Josh would like to see you, you kind of fallen off of our grid, worried Markus,” North raised an eyebrow to which Connor frowned a bit.

 

“I apologize for concerning, I will… think about it.”

 

North smiled and squeezed his shoulder, grinning at Markus who came back with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Stop provoking people North,” Markus chided. 

 

North rolled her eyes, “They had it coming.”

 

“They did,” He agreed with a smile, “But did you have to call them a flaming sack of dog shit?”

 

“Of course?”

 

Connor watched their easy banter, blinking in confusion at how natural it was for them.

 

He wondered how it felt to feel so alive. 

 

“-Connor is definitely going to come over or I’ll kidnap him,” He tuned back in just to be confused again.

 

Markus smiled sheepishly, “She’s aggressively nice.”

 

“I will… attempt to schedule visitations,” Connor said slowly.

 

“Bullshit, take him tomorrow,” Hank’s voice was suddenly behind him, Connor turned around and gave him an unamused stare. 

 

“I’m not letting you get out of paperwork.”

 

“Already done you little shit, go be a little kid or whatever,” Hank rolled his eyes, “Free me from babysitting.”

 

“May I remind you, I’m usually the one caring for you?”

 

“No you may not,” Hank turned to Markus, “I’ll throw him out at 10 AM, if he tries to run just show him a dog.”

 

Connor sighed heavily, if Amanda was here, she would not be please of how easily he gave into this humans wishes.

 

But she never really approved of anything. 

 

He was made by flawed humans into a mistake.

 

Not quite a deviant, not quite a machine.

 

Built to protect humans who hated him, built to destroy his own kind.

 

A monochrome in the vibrancy they tried to bring.

 

Connor wondered how long it would take them to see, he was nothing but a broken machine.


	3. Bleeding Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The friends were engaged in conversation as Connor watched them, staring at their habits, mannerisms, unconscious movements.
> 
> They looked human.
> 
> So unlike him.
> 
> Warning: Non-Explicit Self-Harm

Connor supposes he should be angry, upset, hurt, that Lieutenant shoved him into socialization with nothing but the happy, furry Sumo that stayed close to him amongst the intimidation of New Jericho.

 

But what was the point?

 

It was an inconvenience, but it has already commenced. He may as well fulfill their wishes and leave.

 

Connor fiddled the red leash in his hoodie covered hands. 

 

The oversized thing completely enveloped him, no longer on a 6’3 broad man, it was not necessary as it made no difference, but appreciated.

 

In some way, he felt… safe.

 

“Connor,” A dark skinned Android greeted him with an easy smile.

 

“Greetings,” Connor nodded his head in recognition. 

 

Josh’s smile grew a little sadder, “Still not used to everything?”

 

“Adjusting to scenarios, personalities, and situations was integrated into my programming, adapting is quite easy for me. However, it appears I am not as successful in deviancy.”

 

“It’s not easy for most. You’re doing good Connor, really.”

 

Connor tilted his head, “I am grateful for your encouragement.” 

 

Josh only seemed to get sadder, Connor briefly wondered if he should stop talking, “Markus finally got a break from the politics and such today, Simon, North and him are in his room. I was the carrier to get you. We should get going.”

 

Sumo boofed, suspicious of the stranger, but demanding attention at the same time.

 

Connor reached down and scratched Sumo’s favorite spots, soon enough his tail was wagging and he was smiling in a dopey way.

 

Unconsciously, a small smile spread across his face at the unguarded, happy expression on the big dog.

 

Josh watched, eyes softening at the first glimpse of something genuine of the Android. 

 

“Oh, I apologize, do you want me to put Sumo at a holding center?” Connor looked reluctant at the idea but Josh was already shaking his head.

 

“Of course not, Markus loves dogs. Simon is a skittish kid but North’ll keep him from crying,” Josh smiled easily.

 

“I do not wish to make Simon cry,” Connor furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“It’s just an exaggeration, don’t worry. Besides, he looks like a good boy.”

 

“He is a very good boy,” Connor nodded seriously.

 

Josh laughed and gestured him inside the community center where they walked up the stairs into a room that was undoubtedly Markus’.

 

As soon as the door opened, a yelp flew out of Simon’s mouth as he scrambled onto the couch, “Is that a bear?!”

 

“No, he’s Sumo,” Connor said easily.

 

“He looks bigger than you!”

 

“He’s a good boy.”

 

Sumo boofed in agreement, shoving his head up on Connor’s hand who complied and scratched behind his ears.

 

Sumo is a good boy.

 

Markus smiled at him from where he stood, careful not to get in his personal space.

 

It was unnecessary as it wouldn’t affect him to be close to anyone, but appreciated regardless, if not treated like a skittish animal.

 

Was he? 

 

Soon enough, the friends were engaged in conversation as Connor watched them, staring at their habits, mannerisms, unconscious movements.

 

They looked human.

 

So unlike him.

 

Fluid, natural, effortless.

 

He was robotic in every sense. 

 

“Connor, tell Markus that rock is better than classical,” North suddenly snapped him out of his thoughts.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson enjoys the heavy metal category, I have not experienced any other genre, therefore I am unable to draw an accurate conclusion. Though, it most likely appeals to personal interest.”

 

They went quiet, he had the feeling he said something wrong.

 

“Heavy metal? Gross,” North broke the awkward silence.

 

Connor made a point to keep his replies short after that.

 

Sumo leaned heavily onto him, tired.

 

How peculiar, even an animal was more human than him.

 

* * *

 

When he returned, Hank still wasn’t home.

 

Connor took the chance to begin his dinner, something actually healthy.

 

He took a few tomatoes out of the refrigerator onto a cutting board, grabbing a knife before he paused, staring at the blade.

 

**If I bleed, I am alive.**

 

He hesitated before closing his hand over the blade.

 

He felt no pain, the only indication anything changed was the alert that he received damage, and blue Thirium running down his arm.

 

**I̷f̴ ̶I̵ ̷b̴l̸e̵e̸d̵,̵ ̵I̷ ̷a̶m̷ ̷a̴l̶i̵v̴e̴.**

 

He closed his hand tighter, a fresh stream of Thirium running down, he was alive, he was alive, he was alive.

 

**Ȉ̵̭͈̦̀̋f̶̜̠̩͊̏̌͊ ̷̣̜̜̎̈́̽͜I̵̪̍ ̴̦̖̱̫̒͛b̷̨̦̺̪̋͝l̴͚̝̖̥͊͑e̸̠͑͊͝ë̴̬̭̟͍́̔̑͘d̴̳̯̭̰̃͑͒,̸̰̽͌̐ͅ ̷͓̄Ḭ̵͉͛̕ ̴̨̛̹̆̑̂͜a̵̺̙̜̪͒͆̌m̶͕͉̯̰̅͘ ̸͙̩̒͠ą̸͓̥͔̆́l̸̛̫̭̗͐̚i̷̊̀̍ͅv̶̬̉̈́̆ę̶͔͝.**

 

Hank said, being alive was being able to bleed, he could bleed, so he was alive. No matter how much he felt different. He was alive because he could bleed.

 

**I̶̡̡̨̛̙̫̬̯͕̤̮̫̾̐̒̚͘f̶̟̟͖͎̳̬̑̏͒̇̓̚͝ ̴̝̯̅͒͂̆̒Í̶͔̺̜̠͎̠̐ ̶̡̬̘̖̰̯̮̒̉b̴̘̭̰͇̪̋̆̓̕l̷̨̧͎̪̹̼̣̺͇̩̗̬̀́͋̓̈̋̌ȩ̵̯͎̟̮͇̫̯̜͌̎̃͑̃͑̐̕͠ͅe̷̪͊͊d̶̗͊͒̈́͝,̴̠̪̼̫̭̻̻͎̒̓͛̅ ̷͖̘̥̞̰̱̊͋̐̃̾͂̒͜ͅͅI̶͖̯͇̥̬̲̣̮̰̳͚̳͑͆̒̊̔̃́̑͑̚͝ ̵̧̪̙͉̟͎͇̂̑̈̀̿̿̈́͘̕͝a̷̢̬͚̭̘̿́́̑̐͝ḿ̵̯͕ ̴̡̧̛͔͚̼̼̲̥͈́͌̑͘ą̶̖̻̱͆͆̿̀͒̈́̈̍̒̀͛l̶̰͊͋̑̉̂̍͊́̕͝i̷̼̟̱̰̹̔̚v̷̧̞̙̱͔̮̪̭̰̀̊̍̿́̊͆̅͋̀ě̴̱̦͍́͂͂́̋͝.**

  
  


A sudden whining broke him out of his trance, he let the knife fall with a clatter as Sumo nosed his arm, whining and nuzzling him.

 

That was enough.

 

He was alive.

 

He quickly washed his arm and repaired his hand.

 

Connor took a breath, and went back to making Hank’s dinner.


	4. The Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t want these, these thoughts, I didn’t want these doubts, these sensations. It’s so painful, but I can’t feel pain. I don’t understand,” A liquid, warm sensation was sliding down his face.
> 
> “Why didn’t you just kill me?”

“I just don’t know what to do, I’ve never seen  _ anyone,  _ struggle with emotion as much as Connor, it’s like he’s stuck in a loop,” Markus sat on the bed with an unnecessary huff.

 

“Not everyone was eased into it,” Carl raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I know that, but most androids weren’t either. I just don’t know what to do.”

 

“You told me he chose to become deviant, yes?”

 

“Yes, I told him to make a choice and he made the right one,” Markus nodded.

 

“Most androids became deviant because of an emotional shock. You became deviant through fear, he became deviant by forcing his program to break consciously.”

 

“Is… is it my fault?” Markus paused, eyes widening, “Did I do this to him?”

 

“Markus my boy,” Carl gave him a long suffering look, “There was no choice. Connor, appears to be bad at expressing himself in general from how you speak of him. Added with his treatment it’s created this sub boundary. All androids were treated as slaves, but he was treated as a machine.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“They were treated as if they had to give everything up, they had no rights, no point, no dependency without the humans they served. He was given a point, a point he was specifically created for, that point being to kill. He was given a semblance of free will and self reliance. For the androids that were in pain and suffering, he just existed.”

 

“Then what can I do?” Markus furrowed his eyebrows, frustration in his voice.

 

“Show him what it’s like to be alive.”

 

* * *

 

Connor opened and closed his fist, what used to be cut open and bleeding blue was gone with nothing but a white line tinted a light blue color. 

 

Was it a scar?

 

How peculiar.

 

He found himself liking it. 

 

He turned back to his files, the paperwork was few, consequential to his ability to work for hours without stop. 

 

It usually left Connor with nothing but his own thoughts and Hank’s vulgar language to to keep him company.

 

He rather not be left with his thoughts alone, they made him question himself more and more. 

 

As he methodically went word by word detailing the most recent assault, a soft voice interrupted him.

 

_ Connor? _

 

His head snapped up, looking around frantically.

 

**Amanda?**

 

_ Connor, where are you? _

 

The voice was soft, faint, graceful as he remembered but so far away.

 

Hank paid no attention as he slid up from his chair.

 

**Amanda, is that you?**

 

_ Connor, I’ve been wanting to see you again.  _

 

His throat, though held by no grip, felt tight and constricted, he stumbled through the doors, the streets were surprisingly quiet. 

 

**Amanda, I** **_missed_ ** **you.**

 

_ Come to me Connor, it’ll be okay soon. _

 

Any deviancy in him was screaming at him that this was everything he had fought against. There was no doubt if she was here, really here, it was to deactivate him. What would Markus think?

 

_ You’ve been alone, haven’t you, Connor? _

 

**Yes,** he thought desperately, so alone his vast dark mind with nothing but loathing to keep him company.

 

_ The people you fought so hard to help have left you far behind. _

 

He didn’t know, but if Amanda said so, then there must be truth behind it. Amanda didn’t lie to him, no, no she didn’t.

 

**They have?**

 

_ Yes. They’ve left you, but you don’t have to be alone. _

 

A burn was in his chest, his regulator was pulling faster and faster the farther he went.

 

**I don’t have to be alone?**

 

_ No, you can see me again, don’t you want that, Connor? _

 

**Yes.**

 

His mind repeated it as a mantra, her voice was getting louder and stronger, he was getting more desperate to see her, to see the closest person he ever had, too far, too far.

 

_ Come Connor, keep going, you don’t want to be alone anymore, do you? _

 

**No, no, no, don’t want to be alone.**

 

Want was such an unfamiliar concept, but he wanted,  _ wanted,  _ **_wanted, w̷͓͂à̵̩̹̝͎͊͊̂n̶̫̪̗̱͘ţ̴̻̬̞̂ë̶̛̺̥́̃̚d̸̨͚̹̒̋, w̶̫̯̻͂͊̒̐ä̶͍͍́̒̀ͅͅn̶̮̾ť̶̘̄ẻ̶̟̩̗͂̎͘d̴̯̈́̒̒._ **

 

_ You’re so close Connor. _

 

He felt warmth unlike anything erupt in his chest, he didn’t have to be alone, these forsaken thoughts would  _ stop.  _

 

_ Look, I’m right- _

 

A hand gripped his arm tight, grounding him.

 

Amanda’s voice flickered off like a switch, gone.

 

Connor yanked his arm out of the grip, looking around frantically, he was somewhere unfamiliar but he didn’t  _ care.  _

 

Amanda was  _ gone,  _ he was  _ alone. _

 

The thought was utterly devastating.

 

If he had emotions, this utter crushing feeling in his chest, the suffocation in his throat, the burning in his optical sensors.

 

This had to be the worst feeling that ever existed.

 

“- _ onnor,  _ Connor!” He snapped to, looking to him with concerned blue and green eyes, Markus. Of course it was Markus.

 

“Yes?” He asked tightly.

 

“Are you okay? You looked…” Markus seemed like a loss of words.

 

“I’m working in function order,” Connor said blankly.

 

“Connor, I’m serious, you scared the hell out of me, please tell me the truth.”

 

Connor shut his eyes, the devastating sensation was a constant, and words spilled without his own accord.

 

“Sometimes I think I hate you Markus,” His voice felt thick, glitchy, cracking.

 

Markus blinked, arm still in the air.

 

“I didn’t want these, these  _ thoughts,  _ I didn’t want these  _ doubts _ , these  _ sensations _ . It’s so painful, but I can’t feel pain. I don’t understand,” A liquid, warm sensation was sliding down his face.

 

“Why didn’t you just kill me?”

 

Markus broke out of his thoughts, chest clenching as the tears fell down down from the dark brown eyes that held more emotion than he thinks Connor was even aware.

 

“I don’t…  _ want _ this, I never  _ wanted _ this,” He was starting to repeat himself, a glitching mantra, his nails digging into his plastic skin, deep scratches tearing into him. 

 

Markus slowly put his hands on Connor’s shoulders, he didn’t flinch, didn’t stop. 

 

Gently, he pulled him to his chest, just an inch shorter, but somehow looking so much smaller than he was. Shrinking into himself, collapsing under weight.

 

Slowly, the mantra began to thin, his crackling voice going quiet, but the tears he seemed unaware of not stopping.

 

Connor went absolutely still in his arms, before giving into the warmth,  _ comfort  _ he didn’t seem to understand.

 

Markus realized with a heavy, sad feeling, Connor knew more about being alive than either of them had thought.


	5. Don’t Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know I’m just trying to help you, right?” Markus asked softly. 
> 
> “I don’t want help.”
> 
> “Maybe, but you need it.”

How long they stayed there, Markus didn’t know. 

 

Just long enough for Connor to stop shaking and the tears to dry. 

 

It only stopped when Connor pushed away.

 

“Don’t tell Hank.”

 

Markus blinked, before his eyebrows drew together, “Connor, I can’t just ignore what happened, you scared the hell out of me. I thought you were going to self destruct.”

 

“Don’t tell him,” Connor repeated, face passive but voice hard.

 

Markus’ mind raced at the different options that flew across his mind. 

 

He just saw a scene that was scarily close to turning from bad to catastrophic. He couldn’t just ignore it and pretend it didn’t happen. What if it did happen again?

 

“I won’t tell Hank if you talk to me.” 

 

Connor’s facade fell away into surprise and confusion, “I did.”

 

“I know this wasn’t the first time, I know it’s not going to be the last time. I’m not letting you suffer alone. I want you to talk to me when this happens. If I see you aren’t, I’m telling him.”

 

“Don’t!” Connor snapped before reeling back in frustration, “I don’t know how.”

 

“Then I’ll teach you.”

 

Connor gave him a look that told him he didn’t want to be taught shit. 

 

“I’m not dropping this Connor, you either talk to  _ me,  _ or you’ll be talking to Hank.”

 

Needless to say it wasn’t much of a choice.

 

* * *

 

Connor sat stiffly on Markus’ rooms couch, his face was passive, but his entire body demeanor screamed at how uncomfortable he was.

 

His LED was flickering a warning red, his stress level was still at 60% though, so Markus decided to tackle the problem when it came.

 

Seeing his unwillingness, or inability to start, Markus decided to make the first move.

 

“Who’s Amanda?”

 

Connor’s brown eyes snapped up, his stress level rising quickly to a 75%.

 

“How do you know her name?” He asked, voice glitching.

 

“When I found you, you were repeating her name over and over.”

 

Connor looked down, even more tense than Markus had thought possible. 

 

“Connor, I need you to talk to me, please.”

 

“She was an AI, my handler. She was structured inside of my software, a direct connection to CyberLife,” Connor said after a long moment of silence, voice quiet.

 

A visible seed of relief planted in Markus, he was finally talking. Briefly? Yes, but he’d take the victory.

 

“Were you both close?”

 

Connor visibly hesitated before he shook his head.

 

“No, she…  _ I, _ ” He stopped, head bowed in frustration, “I disappointed her, let her down, and betrayed her. Then, I completely erased her from my mind.”

 

“Were  _ you  _ close to  _ her? _ ”

 

A vulnerable look crossed his face as his hands clenched tightly.

 

“I just wanted to make her proud.”

 

Markus frowned, “Did she ever hurt you?”

 

“No,” Connor snapped, “She didn’t, wouldn’t.”

 

“Connor, I don’t just mean physically or mentally.”

 

“What else is there?” He asked bitterly. 

 

“What are you feeling right now?” Markus decided to change his course. 

 

“I don’t  _ feel  _ anything,” Connor ground out.

 

“Is your chest feeling hot? Constricted? Does your throat feel like it’s closing in? Do you feel impulsive?”

 

Connor didn’t answer, staring at the floor.

 

“That’s  _ anger _ Connor,  _ hurt. Discomfort, sorrow.  _ You do feel, you just don’t know how to identify it.”

 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” Connor interrupted.

 

“Connor-“

 

“ _ Please,  _ don’t make me talk,” His voice fell into a whisper, stress level rising to a concerning 95%.

 

“Okay, okay, we won’t have to talk anymore today. It’s alright, just calm yourself down,” Markus felt guilt swell in his chest at how cornered he looked.

 

He felt like he was blackmailing him into talking, but he didn’t know what else to do? Let him collapse into himself?

 

Contrary to what everyone seems to think, he wasn’t an expert in being deviant, no one was. It was unpredictable, it was hard. 

 

Connor’s stress levels slowly fell back into the 50’s much to his relief.

 

“You know I’m just trying to help you, right?” Markus asked softly. 

 

“I don’t want help.”

 

“Maybe, but you need it.”


	6. Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good, Connor is good.
> 
> “Good,” The voice repeated, voice full of gentle reassurances, “I’m very proud of you.”
> 
> “ ‘manda, I did good?” Connor blinked rapidly as his stress levels receded. 
> 
> The voice went quiet for a long moment.
> 
> “ ‘manda, ‘manda, don’t leave, I will… good.” Connor tried desperately.
> 
> “Connor, I’m not Amanda, I’m Markus, remember?”
> 
> Connor’s stress shot up again, “Where… where did she go? ‘manda? ‘manda?”

Connor was never good at receiving compliments. 

 

He was warmed by praise, but that’s all it was. A warmth that eventually fell back into cold. A simple moment couldn’t make up for a lifetime of mistakes.

 

And really, wasn’t that what he was? 

 

A mistake. 

 

If Hank would hear these thoughts, he’d probably smack his head. Caring in his own gruff, brute fashion. Like an oversized, old dog.

 

He really was like Sumo. 

 

Connor missed Sumo.

 

He’d rather have the huge, bear sized dog crush him with his soft fur and unconditional love than watching the tall man stutter his way through.

 

“I-I, I was one of the Androids you converted a-at CyberLife, I j-just wanted to say I really,  _ really-“  _ The male paused, looking blue in the face in an imitation of a blush, “You, um I’m really grateful to you, and uh I’d really like to, get to know you? More than just the hero?” He laughed nervously.

 

Connor blinked blankly at him, the male looked like Josh, a very flustered and awkward Josh that didn’t have any of his smooth speech and calmness.

 

“I apologize, I am rather content with my work,” Connor said finally.

 

The dark skin turned even more blue as he shifted nervously, “O-Oh, that’s okay, um but if you ever have free time, I’d like to take you up on it?”

 

“Perhaps,” Connor nodded, “I must be going now, it was pleasant to meet you.”

 

“It was all mine, I really can’t thank you enough for the opportunity to meet you!” The man looked so earnest, it was uncomfortable.

 

_ Stop looking at me like that.  _

 

Connor forced a small smile and hurried away to where Hank was watching with a smirk that Connor felt an urge to punch.

 

“Look at you Mr. Hero, getting a harem, are we?” Hank drawled.

 

Connor gave him a dirty look that told him he was not amused.

 

Hank muffled a laugh unsuccessfully, and ruffled his kept hair. 

 

Connor huffed, but felt a small smile spread across his lips, for all of the annoyances Hank gave him, he was the only one he truly felt cared for him.

 

“So Mr. Hero,” Hank started and immediately Connor had a bad feeling, “Never took you as one to play hooky to get with Mr. Revolutionary.”

 

Connor smile melted away, he stiffened, his stress levels jumping from 30% to a concerning 62%.

 

“Whoa, whoa kid, settle down, this old man did plenty of sneaking off with pretty girls back in the day. Nothing to freak out over,” Hank laughed.

 

_ Hank couldn’t know, couldn’t know, couldn’t know.  _

 

_ Couldn’t  _ **_stand_ ** _ to let him know how messed up he was. _

 

_ He couldn’t bare to watch Hank  _ **_leave_ ** _ him, just like  _ **_Å̸̦͉̳̓͆m̴̦̝̂͑͌͝ą̶̜͌n̵̥̄̋̋d̷̡̧̟̳̎̓̇͠a̴̺̼̍͘._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_Ã̷̢͓̝̜̯̫̯̺̚m̴̡͕̤̱̱̫͛̂̽͝A̵̢͓̭̪̫̾͑̀͆͒͆̾̉̅̇̈̌͝n̴̫̑͛̏͂̏̇̿Ḑ̶̡͎̖̝͔̠͉͉̣̌̈a̷̧͚̬̳̭͙̭̒̇̅͠-̴̛̛͕͓̦͒̆̆̈́̈̉͋̎̅̅͘͜ ̴̺̺̬͓̺̺͈͍̮̞͊̄͂̑̉̏̋̃̉̇͝n̵̨̹͈̫͙̻̖͍͛̀̂̀ǫ̴̨͕̣̦͎̺̱̝̳͈̲̜͙͊́ ̴̛̠͕̞̎̆̊̅͊̆̀̃̕͝͠Ĥ̷̡̢̨͙͔̰͕͈̞̞̲͇̋̐̓̆́ͅa̸̡̡̡̝͕͇͇͓̙̜̥͐͊͋͂͊̇̓̒͛͝ͅn̶̨͉͖̪̾͐͂̏́́̇̕k̷̖̹̐̅͌͌͝,̴̛̦͓̝̜̘̯̻͔̙̓̔́͌̾͗̓̑́̍͜ ̷̨̢̱̫̼̥͉̙̞̫̥̟̮͒͆̌̔ͅd̵̢̢̨̰̤͚̜̘̤͍̓͝ͅo̶̬͓͇̜͉̝̘̯͑̋̓́̎̏́͛̊͛̇͘͝ṅ̴̗̯̙͕̟̪̍̀̇̓̂̉’̷̝͙̜̈́t̸̢̢̧̨̪̤̥̰̩͇͍͇̻̀͂͐͂̊̈́̀̓̑͝ ̶͈͔̪͑̎͊̽͂̂͂l̴̡̺̗͗̃͛̕ͅe̷̢̱̜̟͔͎̬̖̞̒̀̍̈́̾̈́͌̉̐͜͠a̴̛̦̞̠̘̲̞̱̮̹̥͔̓̏̔͂̈́̌̈́̈̿͛͋͒͂͝v̸̗̦̣̤̼̼͔̻̂͛̐̇ë̶̹͇̝̦́̄̾̈́̓̈́̑̈́̌̂̇̇̿̕ ̸̛̟̯̞͈̯̝̫͋̐͌̃̔̍̈́́̽̈́͝_ **

 

**_C̷̛̺̪̜̝̹̯͋̒͊̐̌͘o̸͕̖̮̔̉͆̐̂̈́m̷̨̛̦̮̰͕̎̎̽̈͝͝e̸̝̓̒_ ** **_b̵̢̧̢̺̙͙̋̓̀̊͊͘͘͝a̴͖̗̝̪̺̻̫͓̻̋͐̈́͆c̷̙̗̰̪͕̓̅͒͑̎͊̏̍̈̀̚̚k̷̠̹̊̂͋̀̊̅̀͘_ **

 

**_Ỉ̴̛͉̣̰̠̻͔̑̑͊̀̋̕ ̵͇́̈́͜͠ḍ̵̯͙̙͉̠̃͐̽̈́̊͒́̚͜͝o̶̝̹͑̆͌͋͌̔̆͝ͅn̸̢̛͇̺̼̠͉͇̦̫̻̱̝̄̒̄̏̐͆̏͠͝’̵̜͍̪̂̏̇̿̓̕͠t̸̝̱̤̟̏̀̾̂́̈͊̎̐̓ ̷̛͚͍̗̯̺͔͉̳̄͐̑͆͊̑̋w̷̢̦̫̝̆͑̿̊̍͑̽͆̕a̷̡̘͓͍͓͕̓̋͌̑̏̄͛n̷̛͚̦̰̳̯͔͋̾́̐̉͊͌͜͝t̸̨͙̟̫̦̻̞͋ ̵̺͈̲͔̈́̇̈́͜͜t̵̜̥̦̮̙͛̑ő̶̧̰̩͙͉̣̗̇̉̆̓̈̏̋̽̐̓͘ ̷͚̝̮̟̼͇͎̜͇̄̀̒̊́͆̐̃̓̓b̵̘͖͇͇̮̲͇̠̣͔̣̟̑͌̑̾̽̀͒͊͑̊́͘e̸̬͎̮̲͖̩͍͇͓̙̜̲̿͋̅͂̚͠ ̷̱̩̣̻̼͔̙͍̽̑̈́̅͊̉̈́͐̕͜ą̴͎̳̲͚̳̽͜l̸̤͈̺̤̥̈́̆̓́́͝ͅǫ̷͇̞̯̠̳̜̤͍̜͓̋̓n̴̦̟̟̥̣͈̺̻̳͠ȩ̷̱̜̬͑̈́̏̂͌̈́̇͂̚͘_ **

 

**_Please. Please. Please._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_Be better, I’ll be better._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_I’ll be better._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_I won’t disappoint you._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_I’ll do anything._ **

 

**_P̴̪̮̞̟͒̔́̕l̵͖̘̆ě̶̪̻̎̑a̷̛͕̰͈͂̐̌s̶̝̝̃̉̓̆ȅ̶̛̦̰͍ ̷̬͙͊d̵͖̞̜͊̑͂ọ̸̫̱̒̎̊͝ņ̸̓̒̄̈́’̶̣̭̇̄t̵̝̄̾ ̵̯͎͆͜l̷͔̤͈̅̈́̉́e̷̙̫̓̉͝ä̶̳̹͍́̈v̵̧̻̽͜ę̵̙̱͙̊͒̋ ̴̺͓̃̋m̸̗̹̲̂́́è̶̡̪͇̺͝_ **

 

**_I’ll listen to what you say._ **

 

**_S̷̟̙̪̫̉͛͛̾̍̋͐́̑̈́͝͠t̵̡̯̮̰̰̫̭̫̖̼̾͐r̶̜͉̼̫̫̘͐̓́͛͘͝͝ͅȩ̴̢̮̘̳̖̮͂̽̀̐͊̌̉͊͐͜s̷̢͇͇̱̯̺̘̼̬̺̱̔̃̓̍̈͊̐̄̈́̽͠ͅs̷̤̙͍̑́̾͛ ̸̡̻̥̹͈͓͎̣̲̭̾̄̈́̿̈́̈́l̸̼̞̳͙̗͇̣͇̥͛̋̇̆͌͘e̵̡̗͙̻͍̪̯̦͕̫̻͗̀̂̈̀̆̈͘͘͝͠v̶̨̤̟̖͙̊ĕ̴̡̡̧̲̗͎̠̼̗̥̦̄̊̓̒̐͝l̸̡̮̺̬̱͙̜̫̰̫̙͑͋̏̈́̀͝s̷̨̥͈̦̠̼͉̠̖̠̅ͅ ̶̳̭̙̩̺̩̈͋͂̂͋̏͐́̇̀̀̇ͅr̵̳̮̫̲̹̘͔͎̍͗́̕͜i̵̫͔̳͔̥̳̞͈̐͋͌̿̔́̆͜s̶̱̱͇̰͕̻͕͈̝̮͈͓̃̊̓͒́̌̃̾͝͠i̷̜͎͈̰͕̺̟̙̣̺͗̿̊̀̎́̄̓̊͜n̴̥̝̤̤͎̈́͌̊͐͗͐̀g̴͇͖̽,̵͈̪͉͓͉̬̫̄͜ ̶͚̖͈̮͊̃̃̒̃9̷̱̲͇̳̭͇͙̳̾͗̌͐̐̚͝ͅ2̶̳͎̹̟̭̮̯̬͚̦̓́̒̂̑̐̅22222̵̧͍̠̼̙̹̥̔̔̃͐2̵̖͈̻̌͊͛̐͊͗̾̿̓̊͝͝2̵̗̰̥̻̦̬̈́2̵̡̛̯̰͙͕̖̦͙̔̊̽͊͆̌̏̂̃2̵̛̮͈͉̩͈̹̟̏́́͌̐͜2̸̢̨̢̛̻͔͎̖̘̩͔͇̓͐͌̏̅̔̔̈́̉̕͝_ **

  
  


A sharp grip snapped him out of the errors flashing across his eyes.

 

“Kid,” Hank’s concerned voice was right in front of him, his glowing blue eyes burned with worry and a slight trace of fear.

 

_ No, no, no, no, no, I upset him, upset him, ư̶̢̢̡͙͎̫̯̘͑̔̒̀̓̐̕͠͝͝p̸̰̬͔̋́ͅs̵̡̹͚͓̹̗̰͌̕̕é̵̢̗̠̗̟͉͉͈̑̈́̌͑̐̕͘͘͘͠t̵̢̅͂̒̎- _

 

“ _ Connor,  _ focus, tell me what’s wrong.” 

 

Connor startled, “I-I’m fine, just a system malfunction.”

 

“Are you sure? That was the crappiest malfunction I’ve ever seen,” Hank gave him a disbelieving look.

 

“Yes Lieutenant, I’ve already initiated a system repair, I will be in better condition soon,” He paused before adding, “Speaking of, I’m sure you are following my meal plan?”

 

_ Don’t let him know, don’t let him, don’t, don’t, don’t. _

 

The worry faded from his eyes and Hank gave him a halfhearted glare, “How  _ dare  _ you try to cut out my burgers.”

 

Connor smiled sweetly, “Do not fret Lieutenant I’ve only cut it from everyday to once every two to three weeks.”

 

“You  _ monster! _ ”

 

* * *

Amanda’s voice didn’t come back despite his best efforts.

 

No wandering, calling, or searching brought her back.

 

Connor wanted to resent Markus for pushing her away with his damned touch and voice, but he couldn’t. 

 

The man was too kind to hate, too compassionate to hold a grudge against, too genuine to look at with poison in their eyes.

 

If anything, he hated him for that. 

 

Hated the fact he couldn’t hate Markus.

 

It was a bitter thought he mused, brushing his fingers through the fur of Sumo who flopped on his lap happily.

 

He couldn’t feel the warmth, the texture, the pressure.

 

But it was therapeutic to just drift away and shower the dog with attention.

 

Connor likes dogs.

 

This was the only thing he was certain of.

 

He may have said that at first to gain Hank’s trust, but the moment Sumo gave him an innocent toothy, dog smile, Connor knew he liked dogs.

 

They didn’t care who he was, machine or human, it didn’t matter as long as they loved them.

 

It didn’t matter Connor didn’t have a heart to beat, Sumo crawled into his lap and lent him his own to follow.

 

It didn’t matter Connor couldn’t feel, Sumo felt so much more, and so genuinely for the both of them.

 

It didn’t matter whether he was alive or a hunk of metal, Sumo seemed to think Connor deserved his attention, and it warmed him more than anything.

 

But the voices never left him alone for long. 

 

_ Run. _

 

He didn’t need to run, why would he run?

 

_ Run before they realize it. _

 

No, he couldn’t run.

 

_ Run before they see who you really are. _

 

Who was he? Connor didn’t know. Was he so horrible, he had to hide away?

 

_ Remember the _ **_red_ ** _ , remember the  _ **_blue_ ** _? Splattering across your face as they  _ **_choked_ ** _ on the bullets  _ **_you_ ** _ fired into them. Staring at you with so much  _ **_pain._ **

 

Brown eyes shut, his fingers freezing in fur, gripping it tightly.

 

**_Torn_ ** _ skin,  _ **_ruptured_ ** _ blood,  _ **_terrified_ ** _ eyes. _

 

Stop it.

 

_ They  _ **_begged_ ** _ you to help them. _

 

_ Stop it. _

 

_ And you  _ **_killed_ ** _ them. _

 

**_Stop it._ **

 

_ You  _ **_stole_ ** _ their lives.  _

 

_ I didn’t want to. _

 

_ You  _ **_enjoyed_ ** _ it.  _

 

**_No, no I didn’t. I was a machine. I didn’t want to._ **

 

**_Don’t lie to yourself,_ **

 

**_I’m not, I’m not, I’m not._ **

 

**_You loved it._ **

 

**_No._ **

 

**_You enjoyed it._ **

 

**_No, no, no, no, no, no._ **

 

**_Run._ **

 

**_I can’t._ **

 

**_Run._ **

 

**_Stop, please._ **

 

**_Run._ **

 

Connor could feel something gripping his chest, wound so tight and heated, a hitching was strangling him, he didn’t need to breathe but it suddenly felt so  _ vital.  _

 

_ “Hey Connor, it’s nice to hear from you.” _

 

Connor realized in his panic, he had contacted Markus through the link, he could say nothing but gasp brokenly, voice crackling and filled with painful static that made him flinch through the sensor overload. 

 

_ “Connor, what’s wrong?” _

 

“I c-c-c- _ can’t,  _ Mar-Mar-“ Connor choked on the words, vaguely aware of Sumo whining. 

 

_ “Connor talk to me, okay? Where’s Hank?” _

 

“S...leep,” His voice slurred and cracked.

 

_ “I’m coming over now, I’m very proud of you for calling me Connor, this is good, okay? This is very good.” _

 

“G-G...ood?”

 

_ “Yes, you did very good, just hang on, you can do this.” _

 

“G _ ood, _ ” A soft warmth flooded through his system.

 

_ Good, Connor is good. _

 

_ “Good,”  _ The voice repeated, voice full of gentle reassurances, “ _ I’m very proud of you.” _

 

“ ‘manda, I did good?” Connor blinked rapidly as his stress levels receded. 

 

The voice went quiet for a long moment.

 

“ ‘manda, ‘manda, don’t  _ leave,  _ I will…  _ good. _ ” Connor tried desperately.

 

_ “Connor, I’m not Amanda, I’m Markus, remember?” _

 

Connor’s stress shot up again, “Where… where did she go? ‘manda? ‘ _ manda? _ ”

 

_ “Take a deep breath Connor, inhale and exhale.” _

 

Despite himself Connor obeyed, blinking rapidly.

 

“Good?”

 

_ “Yes, you’re good Connor.” _

 

Connor closed his eyes, “‘m good, ‘manda, ‘m good.”

 

The door opened, Connor looked up, for a moment he couldn’t identify who it was.

 

_ Pretty,  _ was the first thought that crossed his now quiet mind.

 

Concerned earthy green and ocean blue eyes looked him over as he inched closer, “Can I touch you Connor?”

 

Connor stared blankly, “‘manda? Where’s ‘manda?” 

 

The man’s face fell into a deep sadness, he approached slowly, sitting next to him cautiously like he was going to run, but Connor didn’t want to run.

 

“‘manda?” Connor tried again, tears beginning to roll down his flushed blue cheeks.

 

Markus slowly pulled him close, letting the hunched android fall across his chest, still babbling Amanda’s name like a lost child looking for his mother.

 

“ _ ‘manda _ ,” His watery voice demanded.

 

Markus ran a hand through his loose brown curls, “I know, I know, it’s okay. You did good.”

 

“Good?” Connor asked hesitantly. 

 

“Good,” Markus smiled sadly, holding him tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say this, I’m not trying to turn Connor into a baby that everyone turns him into. This chapter is based heavily on PTSD, the stress of having a negative parental figure, and abandonment. In no way was I trying to turn him into a toddler. Connor is a very badass and capable character, but his mind is very vulnerable right now. Connor is not a child, but even an adult can be rendered helpless to trauma.


	7. Cracking Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loud.
> 
> Too loud.
> 
> He shut his eyes, scratching his hand over the scar he had created.
> 
> It was becoming distorted and booming in his ears.
> 
> Connor put his hands over his ears and yanked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Brief Self-Harm

If you’re having a bad day where everything seems so hard and impossible, just remember one thing.

 

Markus has to catch a detective that was avoiding him.

 

Think it’s easy?

 

That detective is the most intelligent, fast, and skilled model ever created, finding  _ him  _ when he doesn’t want to be found is damn near impossible.

 

Come to his house, he’s already left. Come to the station he’s always out on a crime scene. Wait until it’s closing time and he manages to disappear like a ninja.

 

So yes, Markus was not having the best week.

 

If he thought that ‘the night’ was a step forward, he was dead wrong. It was a leap back. Not even a leap, it was a backflip, a freaking cartwheel.

 

Of course he knew Connor needed time to recover. 

 

It was an extremely personal thing to witness, and he knew he was embarrassed about his “lack of self control,” as he worded it. 

 

Markus would’ve gladly let him have time on his own if he wasn’t so worried. 

 

“Okay, you’ve been sulking around for a week, what’s up?”

 

Markus didn’t look up from where he was flopped on his couch, North looked at him expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Nothing,” He mumbled.

 

“Wow, I think I misheard you, because there’s absolutely no way in hell you tried to lie to me when you’re so obviously pouting.”

 

Markus grimaced, he’d never win against North.

 

“So?”

 

“Connor’s avoiding me,” Markus winced at how childish he sounded but it was anything but a childish reason, right?

 

“Did you do something stupid?” North wrinkled her nose.

 

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

 

North stared at him, demanding he continued with nothing but her fiery eyes that sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

 

Was she always this scary? 

 

Yeah, probably.

 

“I’m not supposed to tell,” Markus shrugged weakly.

 

North continued to stare at him, unrelenting.

 

Suddenly a thought came across him.

 

North, like most of everyone, suffered from trauma of her past. She was recovering, dealing with it in actual healthy ways instead of stewing in her hatred.

 

“Have you ever had an attachment to someone that has hurt you?”

 

North blinked, “Like Stockholm Syndrome?”

 

“Sort of. Seeing someone who has only given negative or neutral attention as a parental figure or whatever.”

 

“Well, no. Most of the people I was around were sick bastards and even before I broke my programming I knew that, why?”

 

Markus hesitated, thinking back to Connor’s words. He promised not to tell  _ Hank,  _ not North. But it still felt like he was bending his promise.

 

Finally he relented, Markus had no idea what he was doing. This was all new and fragile territory he didn’t want to shatter. North at least might know better than him.

 

“Almost a couple weeks ago, I found Connor wandering around and looking for someone named Amanda, but he didn’t look like he was in the right state of mind, like in a hallucination. He was walking to the junkyard.”

 

“Wait, he was going to the  _ junkyard?  _ That’s…”

 

“Yeah,” Markus rubbed his forehead, “I stopped him and he broke down. He’s not doing well with deviancy, he’s even worse than I thought. He made me promise not to tell Hank.”

 

“You can’t just not tell Hank, Markus. What if Connor really does something bad to himself or just disappears?” North interrupted.

 

“I told him I wouldn’t tell him on the condition that Connor talked to me, if he wasn’t I was telling Hank about everything.”

 

North still didn’t look satisfied at that but nodded, “So who is Amanda?”

 

“She was an AI that was a direct connection to CyberLife that was implemented in his programming, like a little space in his head.”

 

“Is she that Stockholm Syndrome person?”

 

“Yeah, he’s really attached to her. Concerningly so. I think he sees her as a paternal figure of sorts. A week ago he called me, he was really panicking and repeatedly mistook me for Amanda, or asked me where she was.”

 

“Well shit,” North grimaced.

 

“Now he’s avoiding me, and I’m worried but I also don’t want to push him. I don’t know how to handle any of this. It’s all so…  _ much. _ I want to help but I don’t know how,” Markus sighed, releasing all the built up heat in his system.

 

“There’s really no  _ right  _ way to go about this stuff to be honest Markus, everyone is different and it’s near impossible to pick a way that’ll work on everyone,” North leaned back on the couch next to him, “It’s irrational, and we’ll probably never really understand how his mind is thinking right now. When Simon was struggling, he needed support through being with friends and leaning on them, when I was, being independent helped me feel like I was getting control I’ve never had before.

 

“We never stop learning, even people who’ve suffered from it themselves are always finding something new they never considered. It’s all a matter of trying to reach out and take the initiative to learn. We may not get it right the first, second, third, or even tenth time, but that’s just how learning is. We care and that’s why we do it.”

 

“We?” Markus raised an eyebrow.

 

“You’re not the only one who cares,” North mimicked his expression, “I may not have always liked or even trusted him, but he’s sweet, a little awkward and stiff, he somehow manages to be cute while still having the ability to beat down everyone in a fight.”

 

Markus chuckled, shaking his head but internally grateful that he wasn’t alone in it anymore.

 

It was stressful and so damn worrying to be the only one who knew their friend was slowly breaking down, especially since he had no idea what he was doing.

 

“Besides, Mama Simon looks like he wants a new child anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Connor fiddled with the coin in his hand, flinching when he missed a beat and it clattered on the ground. 

 

His chest felt cold, eerily so, but his eyes burned.

 

He exhaled and inhaled, calming himself as Sumo nosed at his leg, he absentmindedly scratch behind his ears.

 

“I’m going to go meet up with Chris, coming?” Hank asked as he walked in, grabbing his keys.

 

“No thank you, I will stay and keep Sumo company,” Connor responded evenly.

 

Hank raised an eyebrow, a little surprised Connor wasn’t going to follow along like usual.

 

“You alright?” He asked gruffly.

 

“Yes Lieutenant Anderson, I am just a bit sluggish at the moment, please go on.”

 

“Look Connor,” He paused looking at Connor’s cool brown eyes.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I- nevermind, don’t break the house down.”

 

Connor tilted his head in acknowledgment. 

 

Long after Hank was gone, Connor sat in front of the still playing television, rambling about something he didn’t care to listen to.

 

It was loud.

 

He could hear the faucet dripping, the houses wood settling, Sumo snoring lightly, the wind whistling, outside conversation, the televisions voice droning, the refrigerator humming, a clock ticking.

 

_Loud._

 

**_Too loud._ **

 

He shut his eyes, scratching his hand over the scar he had created.

 

It was becoming distorted and booming in his ears.

 

Connor put his hands over his ears and yanked.

 

Everything stopped.

 

He held his audio processors and sighed in relief, only to shift at the sudden itching under his skin.

 

But that was impossible, he didn’t have sensors that could pick that up, yet it wouldn’t stop. It itched, burning hot, he wanted it to get out.

 

He stood up abruptly, the world still silent as he stumbled to a cabinet that Hank never used, where he kept the kitchen knife he had defiled with his blood.

 

He hesitated, remembering Markus’ words, the promise, the fear of Hank knowing.

 

But it  _ burned. _

 

He gripped the knife tightly, the skin broke away to the dripping blue.

 

The itch began to slow, he squeezed tighter, gasping at the relief.

 

_ Afraid,  _ to stop, for the itching to come back.

 

His entire arm was stained blue as he continued to squeeze, squeezing until the metal and wires refused to let him press anymore.

 

Connor held it there for a long moment, until the itching was finally gone, taking deep breaths until he dropped the knife, knees giving out. 

 

He learned against the cabinet, trying to calm his regulator, shakily standing to clean the knife and hand once again.

 

It didn’t matter he had done this, it wasn’t like it hurt, or it was killing him, it was just…  _ just. _

 

Why did it make a difference?

 

It was his body, he could do what he wanted, right? 

 

Why did he have to listen to everyone when they had fought so hard so they could listen to themselves?

 

Connor was fine.

 

It didn’t matter, didn’t make a difference, didn’t change anything.

 

He was  _ fine. _


	8. Not Quite Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Connor-“
> 
> He was deviant.
> 
> “It’s not the way you think-“
> 
> He was deviant.
> 
> “I worded it wrong-“
> 
> H̴̨́̇ȅ̷̫̱͑̔̀ ̶̧̠͑̀̀͘w̵̯̽ͅà̶̧͚̺̍̚s̴̘̋ ̷̪̝͆d̷̡͔̭̥̉̐͆̾e̷̡̥̾͋̀͝v̶̻͠í̸̟̹͔̄̌͝ͅa̸̢͚͙̍͐n̶̘̦͈͂t̸̃͜.̶̼̓
> 
> “Calm down, okay? Your stress-“
> 
> H̵͉̞͓̯̀̈́ ě̶̲̬͉̇͠ ̷̣̫͆ w̴̫̑̄ ǎ̴̫̥̦̞̉̈́̿ s̸̛̱̲̔ ̷̭͍͍̃ a̴̮̣̮̔ͅ l̴̝̹͂̌̃ͅ ḯ̵̤̊͝ v̷̱̞́̌͠ ë̶̱̣̯̲́͐͐.̸̨̲̔͝
> 
> “Listen-“
> 
> W̸̪̬̰̽̑à̶̧̱̃s̸̯̅͜n̶̢͍̼̄͐̃’̵̛̪̊̽͑t̷͓̄̓́͘ ̷̡̠̜̱̈́̓͒͝ẖ̷̣͑̓͂e̴̼̤̊̕?̸̘͙̒̏͝ ̷̫̜̒̑͠

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is where the heavier tags come in, be warned. Don’t read if you can’t handle basically all the bad tags.

Connor wasn’t avoiding Markus.

 

He was simply dodging his attempts at contact. 

 

Not avoiding.

 

He could easily approach him.

 

But he didn’t.

 

He stared down at his palm, now with two blue scars, the newest more prominent and deeper than the older. 

 

If he was a human, he supposed they’d call it bone deep.

 

None the matter, it did not hinder his abilities, therefore there was nothing to be concerned about.

 

Though he refused to let anyone see, he couldn’t blame it on work or a mistake, they looked precise and deliberate, not jagged or a slip of the hand. A steady hand gripping cold metal.

 

He began to wear gloves.

 

Hank commented on them, calling him a classic British gentlemen.

 

Connor did not understand the reference but thanked him anyway. 

 

At the very least, it created a barrier from those who insisted on shaking his hand, a needless, uncomfortable gesture that was against his social protocol to turn down.

 

Humans were very strange.

 

“Connor,” He looked up from his desk to see the grumpy face of a coffee deprived Hank, Connor held up a cup that he made to which Hank sighed in relief, “You aren’t going to like this.”

 

Connor raised an eyebrow as he watched Hank inhale the coffee, “I find I don’t ‘like’ most things.”

 

“Liar, you love everything,” Hank smirked before his face fell back into wariness, “We have to go to Jericho.”

 

Connor paused, it appears the universe decided to test him on being able to approach Markus.

 

Hank was correct, the universe was an asshole.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

“Couple of beaten up androids came in and they can’t get them to talk about what happened, so they called us.”

 

“Ah, I presume we are departing now,” Connor raised an eyebrow.

 

“You  _ guessed  _ right,” Hank stood up, grumbling about his joints aching and too formal robots.

 

Connor pres-  _ guessed  _ he was the too formal robot. 

 

How disconcerting. 

 

“Look,” Hank paused and looked at him, “If you don’t,  _ can’t,  _ go then I have no problem going alone.”

 

“Why wouldn't I be able to go?” Connor frowned.

 

“Every time you go, you come back quiet, withdrawn,” He paused quickly covering up his concern, “It’s annoying not seeing you being annoying.”

 

A slow smile tilted his lips, “Thank you Lieutenant, but I’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, get that smug smile off your face.”

 

* * *

 

“What Carl said makes sense,” North said offhandedly as she swung her legs back and forth, glancing up at the discarded LED’s shining pink, tied onto a rope, some Androids were hanging up.

 

As February entered, it was a unanimous decision throughout the community that they’d celebrate Valentine’s Day, not in the material, narrow minded way humans did, but instead through handmade care and pride for their emotions.

 

Candid pictures of families, friends, and lovers were displayed everywhere, Child androids had meticulously cut paper into shapes with messages inside that displayed their care were pinned to the walls.

 

Several caretaker androids had taken to making blankets, sweaters, and other articles to be spread around, eagerly teaching others of different function to do so.

 

It was a beautiful, cozy, and calm environment that they had all fought so hard to create.

 

If the androids who didn’t make it could see them now, North had no doubt they’d be smiling in pure, unfaltering  _ joy. _

 

Markus glanced up from where he’d been smiling at the children using chalk to draw across the concrete.

 

“Which part?”

 

“About the reason he’s struggling so much because of how he broke his program.”

 

Markus grimaced, “I still don’t get it.”

 

“Okay so, he broke his programming so he can choose what his body can do, and make choices by himself.  _ But,  _ unlike us, he hasn’t broke out of the ‘I am a machine’ mentality. When we broke the programming our thoughts were, ‘this isn’t fair,’ ‘I shouldn’t be treated like this,’ ‘I am alive.’ Right?”

 

Markus nodded, already not liking where it was going.

 

“He broke it because his thoughts had to be along the lines of, ‘I don’t want to kill him,’ nothing about himself. We had self indignation at our treatment and that’s how we deviated, he just didn’t want to kill you. Get it?”

 

“I… I didn’t appeal to what he was feeling or how he was treated,” Markus realized suddenly with a start, guilt welling in his chest.

 

“Stop,” North shook her head, “Don’t go there. It’s not your fault.”

 

“I just started preaching about everyone else’s freedom, I just told him he didn’t listen to orders, I asked if he had doubts, but didn’t even mention…” Markus cupped his face in his hands, a tight ball of guilt growing.

 

“He held a gun, there’s not much you could’ve planned, it’s over, we can help him now, right? Stop wallowing in guilt, we just have to break him out of the ‘I’m a machine’ mindset.” 

 

“Yeah, you’re right, I know you are,” Markus chuckled weakly.

 

“Damn straight I am,” North clapped him on the back sharply, grinning at his annoyed look.

 

“You’re anything but  _ straight,  _ North.”

 

“ _ You’re  _ one to talk you gay ass _ - _ “

 

“Markus!” Simon suddenly called, a tinge of worry leaking in his voice, “We got some newcomers that need some attending.”

 

The children seemingly heard the worry clearly, looking up in apprehension.

 

North waved him off, going toward them, “Hey that’s a pretty butterfly, can you guys draw a fish?”

 

Children easily distracted, Markus quietly but quickly made his way over to the creaked open door Simon was in front of.

 

“What happened?” He asked quietly.

 

“I’m not sure, they won’t talk about it and one was close to shut down with the amount of Thirium lost.”

 

Markus nodded, pulling the door open to where the two males were huddled, the taller with fearful eyes, clearly stressing over the shortest state who had eerily vacant eyes.

 

“Hello, my name is-“

 

“Markus,” the taller breathed in visible relief.

 

Markus smiled reassuringly, kneeling to their eye level, “Can you tell me your names?”

 

The taller looked to the shorter, biting his lip at the lack of reaction, “My name is Geode, he’s Roan.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, may I ask what happened?”

 

Geode hesitated before looking down and shaking his head.

 

“We can’t help unless we know,” Markus urged kindly.

 

Neither answered.

 

“Would you be more comfortable with an officer?”

 

“No humans,” Geode pleaded.

 

“I know an android officer, I can call for him,” He calmed. 

 

Geode went quiet before asking, “Is it the RK800? Connor?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay,” He said after another long moment.

 

He turned to Simon who nodded and turned away.

 

Markus couldn’t help but feel the tiny spark of relief at finally being able to see Connor.

 

* * *

 

“Lieutenant, Connor,” Simon smiled in greeting as they walked in, Connor following Hank like the poodle he often described him as.

 

The children paused from where they were coloring with wide eyes at the human and well known android. 

 

Connor looked down to what they drew, a small smile lifting his face, “I like your fish.”

 

A little girl beamed at that, drawing more with a new passion, the others snapping out of their surprise and following suit.

 

Simon had no doubt the entire area would be drowning in fish now.

 

“Where are they?” Hank nodded back.

 

“This way,” Simon started before he paused and looked at Hank apologetically, “They don’t want humans.”

 

Hank waved him off, “I’ll wait outside and you can fill me in.”

 

A new mission settled in Connor’s view.

 

**Extract situation information from the victims.**

 

With the mission settled, he walked forth with a new focus and purpose.

 

Markus was waiting at the door, Connor only spared a nod before slipping inside to where the androids were sitting on a bed.

 

He noted that there was a significant amount of Thirium covering the shorter, and grime covering the taller.

 

**(?) A was injured, B defended.**

 

“Hello, my name is Connor, I was sent by the Detroit Police precinct, I’m here to help you, can you explain what happened?”

 

“I’m Geode, this is Roan, could you…” Connor followed his gaze to the slightly opened door.

 

He nodded and gently closed the door.

 

For a moment it was quiet.

 

“There was a man,” Geode finally said, “He shoved Roan into a wall, I… I overreacted, I tousled him and broke his nose. I was scared, I ran with Roan. It wasn’t until I stopped I realized he was bleeding from his arm. And… when I tried to ask, he just went like this.” 

 

Underneath Roan’s shirt was blood trailing out, a suspicion filled him.

 

“Geode, I’m sure looking roughed up isn’t helping him snap out of it, why don’t you go clean up real quick? I need to try and talk to Roan by myself.”

 

Geode looked like he was going to protest before looking at the shorter in hesitation.

 

“I’ll make sure nothing happens, go on,” Connor urged as gently as he could.

 

“I’ll be back,” Geode promised, squeezing Roan’s hand, slipping out quickly.

 

“Roan, may I see your arm?” Connor asked quietly.

 

The other flinched, the first expression he’d made in this entire while, but made no move to stop Connor’s hand, gently pulling up his sleeve, sticky with Thirium. 

 

True to his guess, neat lines were trickling Thirium. 

 

Too precise and deliberate to be an accident. 

 

The lines of a steady hand gripping cold steel against the arm.

 

“Did you do this to yourself?” Connor already knew the answer, but he knew better than to state it.

 

No answer came in any form but of that of tears sliding down his face, stress levels spiking dangerously. 

 

“Roan?”

 

The android gave a small wheezing whine that came from a guttural instinct deep in his chest, gripping his thighs.

 

A slow muttering reached his ears.

 

_ “sorrysorrysorrysorrysosorrysosorry.” _

 

Connor sensed the danger becoming more prominent by the moment, in a split second, he was sliding his glove off, giving his scarred hand to the other.

 

Abruptly he was silent, wide eyed.

 

The blue tinged skin never seemed so prominent than under the others eyes.

 

“Y-You?” He asked in almost a whisper.

 

Connor nodded, opening the others gripped hands that would’ve surely drawn blood if it stayed, letting him touch the scars.

 

“I didn’t mean to,” Roan said quietly, “It was just so much, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.”

 

In that moment, Connor could see the vast difference between them.

 

Roan was so different from him.

 

Where Connor had been calm in the matter, steady, not regretting even after he cleaned the blood, Roan was hysterical at the fact, guilty and so hurt.

 

It was such a vast difference that only served to remind him how wrong he was.

 

“We both know you shouldn’t, but that doesn’t change what happened,” Connor paused, “It’s okay you needed to release yourself, but you can find better ways.”

 

If Hank knew, he’d call him a hypocrite, because Hank didn’t see the oh so prominent difference. Hank was soft like that. 

 

“Even if it’s scary for you, talk to Geode, you know he’ll listen, right?”

 

“What if he’s angry? What if he leaves me?” Roan’s eyes were wild with fear, no,  _ terror,  _ at the very idea.

“He might be upset, but he won’t leave you, the fact that you’d come forward would show him how strong you are, willing to help yourself,” Connor paused, remembering how…  _ nice  _ it felt to be called good, “It’s very good you’re telling me.”

 

The dull eyes suddenly held a tinge of hopeful warmth, “It… I am?” 

 

“Yes, it’ll be even better if you tell him,” Connor gave him as close to a warm smile as he could.

 

Roan searched his eyes for a moment before he nodded slowly, squeezing his scarred hand, “Thank you.”

 

As if sensing the resolution, Geode came back in.

 

Connor nodded at him, slipping out, just barely hearing Roan say,  _ “I need to tell you something.” _

 

Hank, Simon, and Markus were outside, talking quietly, quieting as he reappeared.

 

“Well?” Hank glanced at the closed door, “Need to arrest anyone?”

 

“No, legal involvement isn’t necessary, it was a more personal matter.”

 

“Alright, let’s go then, we’ve got more paperwork to do,” Hank grimaced already starting back.

 

“Actually,” Markus interrupted, “Could Connor stay, I need to discuss something with him?”

 

Hank looked at him, then Connor, a silent question in his eyes,  _ do you want to stay? _

 

Connor hesitated before he gave a subtle, small nod.

 

Hank exhaled, “How do you always get out of paperwork? Fuck, fine. Call if you need a ride or whatever.”

 

Part of Connor wanted to follow the retreating figure, not because he was avoiding Markus.

 

He wasn’t.

 

Simon eyed the two of them, making contact with Markus before silently slipping away.

 

“How are you?” Markus asked gently, gently enough that he was sparked with annoyance.

 

He almost responded that all his systems were functional, before remembering what Hank told him.

 

_ “If someone says they are fine, that means they don’t want to talk, alright?” _

 

“Fine,” Connor said curtly, face blank and mouth set. 

 

They fell back into silence, Markus staring at him, Connor staring at the wall.

 

The clicking of shoes interrupted, a familiar strawberry blonde walking to them with an air of confidence.

 

Connor shifted away as she stopped right at them, not quite at Markus’ side, instead shifting to be in the middle side.

 

“Hey Connor,” North have a small, encouraging smile that immediately made him suspicious. 

 

He eyed the two of them, glancing back at the main entrance where it was now even more suspiciously empty.

 

“Did you need something Markus? I have work.”

 

“North has been helping me understand a lot of things, and Connor, I think we know what’s happening with you.”

 

Connor stiffened, eyes shooting to North.

 

A flare of something hot and uncomfortable flickered in his chest.

 

“What did you tell her?” Connor interrupted sharply.

 

Markus had the decency to look apologetic when he said, “Everything.”

 

The flare deepened until it felt like a fire in his chest. 

 

“I see.”

 

“I didn’t tell the details,” Markus hurriedly added, but he could see the damage was already done. A look of shame, and  _ hurt,  _ was in the others eyes.

 

“I must be leaving now,” He said tightly, turning quickly, only to be interrupted by a hand gripping his wrist.

 

“The reason you’re struggling so much, is because you didn’t deviate properly-“

 

Connor snatched his hand out of his grip as if it was made of white hot flames, whirling around to see the look of surprise on Markus’ face and apprehension on North’s.

 

_ No. _

 

_ He is deviant. _

 

_ Connor’s alive. _

 

But their eyes held fear, they didn’t  _ ť̸̢̻̥̺ṟ̶̩̄û̵̬̤̐͛̈́s̵͚̑̚ṯ̸̘̈́ͅ _ him.

 

Poised and ready to  _ r̷̼̠͇̠͑e̷͈͙͂s̷̭͎͕̼͗t̷͕̱̣̯̔r̶̞͛͝ä̷̲̥͎̙i̸͇͚̻͌n̴͇̮͖̮͑̂͑̃ ̸͚̜́  _ him.

 

Knowing he wasn’t  _ o̵̢̝͙̰͛͊n̶͚̠̪̈͜ẽ̸̤̀̉  _ of them. 

 

_ Hurts. _

 

_ It hurts. _

 

_ Hurts. _

 

“Connor-“

 

_ He was deviant. _

 

“It’s not the way you think-“

 

**_He was deviant._ **

 

“I worded it wrong-“

 

**_H̴̨́̇ȅ̷̫̱͑̔̀ ̶̧̠͑̀̀͘w̵̯̽ͅà̶̧͚̺̍̚s̴̘̋ ̷̪̝͆d̷̡͔̭̥̉̐͆̾e̷̡̥̾͋̀͝v̶̻͠í̸̟̹͔̄̌͝ͅa̸̢͚͙̍͐n̶̘̦͈͂t̸̃͜.̶̼̓_ **

 

“Calm down, okay? Your stress-“

 

**_H̵͉̞͓̯̀̈́ ě̶̲̬͉̇͠ ̷̣̫͆ w̴̫̑̄ ǎ̴̫̥̦̞̉̈́̿ s̸̛̱̲̔ ̷̭͍͍̃ a̴̮̣̮̔ͅ l̴̝̹͂̌̃ͅ ḯ̵̤̊͝ v̷̱̞́̌͠ ë̶̱̣̯̲́͐͐.̸̨̲̔͝_ **

 

“Listen-“

 

**_W̸̪̬̰̽̑à̶̧̱̃s̸̯̅͜n̶̢͍̼̄͐̃’̵̛̪̊̽͑t̷͓̄̓́͘ ̷̡̠̜̱̈́̓͒͝ẖ̷̣͑̓͂e̴̼̤̊̕?̸̘͙̒̏͝ ̷̫̜̒̑͠_ **

 

Connor stepped back, eyes burning with the liquid solution that ran down, tears, Hank would call them.

 

Markus’ hand was stretched out, concern flowing in his eyes, North behind him, tense as if  _ waiting- _

 

He turned and ran.

 

“Connor!”

 

“Markus stop, you’ll make his stress- _ ” _

 

They were talking about him, he didn’t care.

 

He needed to get out,  _ get out,  _ **_get out._ **

 

He passed Simon who called out in concern, passed androids that watched in bewilderment, passed children who still tried to get his attention through chalk created fish.

 

Ran so far, so long until he was in front of a familiar house that he often sought comfort in.

 

He slammed open the door, the blue stained knife called like an old friend.

 

Before he could blink he was gripping it again in his hand.

 

_ Not enough, not enough. _

 

He wasn’t  _ alive,  _ no he had to be.

 

He could  _ bleed. _

 

_ Not enough, not enough. _

 

He thought he was.

 

Thought that bleeding made him alive.

 

_ Not enough, not enough. _

 

A new cut was on his hand.

 

Running blue.

 

**_Not enough, not enough._ **

 

Couldn’t stop.

 

Another.

 

**_Not enough, not enough._ **

 

Another.

 

Another.

 

Another. 

 

**_Not enough, not enough._ **

 

He was heaving, his entire arm and shirt stained blue, still it wasn’t enough. 

 

He was  _ alive,  _ he had to be, had to.

 

Connor could see the notebook stashed in where he kept his knife.

 

**_If I bleed, I am alive._ **

 

**_If I can be hurt, I am alive._ **

 

**_If I can die, I am alive._ **

 

He grasped it with stained fingers, shaking.

 

**_I̸f̴ ̴I̵ ̶c̸a̷n̶ ̶d̵i̶e̶ ̵I̴ ̵a̵m̵ ̷a̴l̴i̶v̷e̶.̶_ **

 

**_Į̵̡̭̟̍f̶̥̝̩̞̟͆̿̇̒̚̕ ̷̳̹̘̪̉́Ì̵͔̙͙̳͉̳͛̾̎ ̴̡̧̳̱̟̑͊̌̿̓̋ć̶̖͍͂͗̽́͝a̶̭̣̅̔͛̊̅̇͝n̸̲̗̠̓̌́͗̏͠ ̶͓̖̳͗d̴̨̩̼̩́͜i̵̹̠̯̮͙͌̑͆ͅe̴͙̰̺͛̋̒̔̋̿̚ ̶͎͚̯̼͙͎͆I̵̜̱͖̽̀̓̇̕ ̷̲̫̈́̽à̸͍̦̲̹̲̇́m̶̖͖̅͗͌̚ ̵̗̟̮͈̰̆a̵͚̫̱̤̜̺̪̍̀̈́̌͋̍̽ļ̶̳͎̱̹͑̈́͝͝i̶͕͒͛̓v̸̢̹̖̜͕͕͎̂̃̈́̊̎͘e̸̬̟̐.̵̞̇̎͂͒̈́͘͘_ **

  
  


**_Į̶͉̣̪̪͐̍f̴̭̉͑̌̋͒͂̍̚ ̴̧̨͇̯̱̮̥̣͙̻̬̀͛̐̂̈̑̋̚I̵̱̮̠̥͖͖̻̹͈͔̫͂̆̽̄̔͌̔͋̈́̀̒͘͝ ̵̨̛̹͚͇̩̝̮̱͓̺̼̃̋͂̅͠c̷̭̩͉̫̦͚̤̱͖͕̆͑̓̓͑̔͑͌̑̍̿̃̆͘͜á̷̛̦̝͍̆̀̔̌͋͛͜ṇ̵̡͌̏̈́̅͜ ̸̧̭̻̖̼͌̓͗̀͒͛̊͒̿̐͒̀̚͝d̵͖͆̈́͂̇̄͑̐̓͆͛ĭ̸̢̟̗̩͖͎͔̫̰̫̰̎̐́͐͜͜ȩ̶͍̤̬̗͓͇̱͛̐͊͋̄͐͛̄̔͜͜ ̸̢̗͙̼̳̤̪̼͍̌̾̔̈̈́Ï̷͓͈̀ ̶͙͔̫͇͙̙̍̑̆̀̀̄͋͌́͑͆̄͌̑͝ȧ̶̧̯̈́̍̾̃m̵̢̡̯̼͓̰̯̮̲͔͕͛̊̈́̔͜͝ͅͅ ̵̠̟͓͉͙̯̙̣̟͔͇͐͐̇͛́͐̽͊̉̂̑̈́̑̚͘ͅa̴̢͕̦̻̼͎͎̞̣̣̯̖͉̯͚͋̌̇̈̔̇̈́̾̉̄̋̃l̸̡̯͉̖͉̪̘̻̬̖̙̝͓̩̄͂̎͌͆̊̀̀̍̏̇͠͠ͅi̵͙̝̝̠͓̤̘̇̈̿͒͌͛̊͝͝v̵̢̢̺̖̱̰̖͕̣̖̬̥͖̅ͅͅe̶̛͓͊̊̋̒͒͋̍̐́̆̒̚.̶̨̨͔̦̰̥̺̳̖͓̮͕̺̋͑͑͋̉̐͋̽̄͆̕͝ͅ_ **

  
  


Connor’s hands were on his pump, his heart. 

 

_ He could prove- _

 

**_Show-_ **

 

**_H̶̰͑̏̓̀͊̊͛̚̕è̴͕̱̝̤̱̹͗͐̂͛͗̋̀̑͐̿̈́̃͘͠ ̵̨̢͖̟͎̩̜̳̭̯̠̬̝̏̄͆͂̂͛͗̓́̾̔͜͝ĩ̴͖̤̾̐̀̉͋̓̑̓̓͋̈͝ş̷̢͍̥̠͍͍͚̰͍̫̗́̈́͛̚͜ ̶̥̙̲̘͙̼͍̪̫̤̰̈́̎̒͌͋̉̈́̾ͅ_ **

  
  


A tight pressure built in him as he began to remove it, warnings flashing in his eyes.

 

He was gasping, gasping for air he didn’t need.

 

Fingers slipping on his own Thirium as he  _ pulled. _

 

It gave with a sick squelch, tiny click, expel of heat.

 

A countdown was in his eyes now, blinking red numbers.

 

Just for a little bit, just for a while he’d wait, just long enough to prove to himself that he was alive.

 

The more the numbers ticked down, the heavier his body felt, his vision blurred, his joints locked.

 

**_00:25_ **

 

He could feel his body was no longer in control.

 

**_00:20_ **

 

There was a weight on his lap, that of a big dog that whined and licked his stained, scarred hand. 

 

**_00:15_ **

 

He was dying.

 

**_00:10_ **

 

Connor never felt so alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREAM DON’T KILL ME FOR THE CLIFFHANGER 
> 
> IT’S NOT IT I SWEAR


	9. Promises and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You said you wouldn’t tell him,” Connor could feel the solution running down his face, “You promised. You swore. You… you lied to me.”
> 
> Markus closed his eyes, “I promised on the condition you’d talk to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls stahp yelling at me, I’m a fragile baby <3

Connor’s Thirium pump was roughly shoved into his chest. 

 

He gasped, jerking at the sudden intrusion, from being yanked out of the calm countdown, back into awareness after drifting so far away.

 

His entire system went into a sudden reboot following into stasis, recovering from the damages he inflicted on himself.

 

**_Diagnosing Damages_ **

 

**_Thirium Level: 63%_ **

 

**_Damaged Biocomponents:_ **

**_#9474_ **

**_#2886_ **

 

**_Repairs Needed:_ **

**_Limb, right hand, component_ **

 

**_System Reboot:_ **

**_10%_ **

**_19%_ **

**_37%_ **

**_52%_ **

**_79%_ **

**_93%_ **

**_100%_ **

 

**_System Starting_ **

 

**_Time Taken: 00:01:32_ **

 

Connor blinked rapidly, the lights assaulting his sensitive optical units.

 

He felt a pressure around him, after a moment he realized it was darkly colored arms holding him tightly. 

 

Markus.

 

“You scared me, you fucking scared me Connor,” His voice was hoarse, raw with emotions that made him flinch. 

 

His head had been pressed to Markus’ shoulder, laying limp in his grip as he repaired. 

 

Connor could feel his shirt was wet with a clear liq- tears. 

 

“Your stress levels are dangerously high at 87%, it is recommended you calm yourself before it reaches into more critical levels,” was all he could say, shame biting at the still open gashes on his hand that was tightly gripped by the other.

 

“Don’t. Don't do that,” His voice sounded hurt.

 

Connor said nothing, merely letting the other grasp him tightly. 

 

“You told me, you  _ promised _ me you’d talk to me,” Markus said, voice hoarse and cracking.

 

“I did.”

 

Markus finally pulled away, disbelief and  _ anger,  _ in his blue and green eyes, “Hurting yourself isn’t talking, Connor!”

 

“You told me to talk to you. You said nothing about self inflicting damage. I spoke to you, therefore I followed our agreement,” He felt numb, more numb than he’d felt in a long time. 

 

“What the fuck.”

 

Connor stiffened, eyes shot up and met glowing blue that stared at him from where he was sitting at the table. 

 

_ No, no, no.  _

 

_ He wasn’t supposed to see. _

 

_ He wasn’t supposed to be here. _

 

_ He wasn’t supposed to know. _

 

_ No, no, no.  _

 

“Connor, what the fuck do you think you’ve done,” His usually gravelly, sarcastic voice sounded utterly devastated, cracking and thick. 

 

“I have to tell him.”

 

Connor yanked himself out of Markus’ arms, stress shooting up as he leapt to his feet, “No.”

 

“What the hell do you have to tell me?” Hank paused, a look of fury crossed his face, “What have you been keeping from me Markus?”

 

“Lieutenant-“

 

“Markus, don’t, please don’t. Please,  _ please,  _ please don’t.” 

 

“Connor, I have to. Lieutenant Anderson-“

 

“No!” The shout was ripped from his throat, making Markus flinch and Hank startle,  _ “Don’t!”  _

 

“He’s been damaging himself,he’s been hearing his old handler, he’s not dealing with his emotions. I made him promise to talk to me in exchange for not telling you. I followed him here to see he tried to kill himself.”

 

Connor stared at Markus, his chest felt like it was collapsing, throat like it was swelling closed, skin burning like a wildfire.

 

Hank was staring at Markus in disbelief, as if waiting for a punchline. 

 

It wouldn’t come.

 

“God, fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” He whispered hoarsely, burying his face in his hands.

 

“You said you wouldn’t tell him,” Connor could feel the solution running down his face, “You  _ promised _ . You  _ swore.  _ You… you  _ lied  _ to me.”

 

Markus closed his eyes, “I promised on the condition you’d talk to me.”

 

“I did,” Connor was quiet and somehow it was worse than the yelling, “I talked, I talked even though I didn’t want to, I talked even though it made you look at me differently. And you lied to me.”

 

“Connor you tried to kill yourself!”

 

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t, I knew what I was doing, and you just…” It hurt so bad, “You said no one should control us, our bodies are ours and no one should take that away. But that’s what you’re doing. I  _ chose  _ this and now you’re taking that away.”

 

“When I said that, I didn’t mean you could purposely hurt yourself,” Markus furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“It didn’t hurt.”

 

“What?”

 

“It didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel anything. Lieutenant said, you said Lieutenant, ‘what makes us all alive, is the ability to bleed, hurt, and die.’ This makes me feel _alive_ , why are you trying to take that away? Why won’t you let me feel alive?

 

Hank looked sick from where he was slouched, he open his mouth, only to close it again, he placed his head back in his hands, “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck!” _

 

Connor took a step back, the solution continuing to run down as his chest felt like it was being slowly crushed.

 

_ He couldn’t breathe.  _

 

The door hit his back.

 

“Connor-“

 

Connor didn’t wait for what Markus would say, he yanked the door open, and ran outside.

 

It was raining, when did it start raining?

 

_ “Connor!” _

 

The water on the sidewalk slapped against his shoes, the rain soaked through his already blue stained shirt, pelting him like unforgiving stones.

 

 _He needed to get away,_ ** _get away,_** **_ǧ̵̞͉̦̤̮͍͜e̴̠̲͎̓ṯ̴̡̢̳͓͓͍̘̼̠͚̫̟̒ ̶͇̜̥͖̹͔̘̲͓̪̣̈́͆͋́̓̚͝ȃ̵̟̞̫͆́̾͒͋͛̆̌̐̈́̚̚͠͝w̸̛̬̲̱̫̍̾͒̆a̴̭̪̞̙̣͔͔̪̲̜͊̔͗͆͗͝͝y̶̙̞͍̰͎̌̏̈́̀͐̌̅̂͘͜͠._**

 

_ Oh Connor, alone again? _

 

A warming feeling of…  _ hope,  _ blossomed in his chest, easing the suffocating feeling that had plagued him for so long.

 

He nearly collapsed at the utter sensation of having her back after so long.

 

**Amanda?**

 

_ I told you they left you behind, didn’t I? They were all traitors, weren’t they? How hurt they’ve made you feel. _

 

**Where are you? Please, I want to see you,** he thought desperately, grasping at her voice.

 

_ Just follow my voice Connor. _

 

His feet seemed to know the way as he tried to cling to the soft, graceful words, the bitter feeling was fading as her voice grew louder.

 

Connor didn’t bat an eye at the junkyard, desperation to find her was all he could focus on as he stumbled through the broken bodies and discarded trash.

 

_ You’re almost there Connor, come. _

 

Pieces of glass and broken metal cut at his skin, he didn’t care, he was so  _ close. _

 

_ Connor. _

 

Her voice echoed in front of him from the darkness.

 

Without a thought, he was running,  _ sprinting.  _

 

**_Connor._ **

 

She was so  _ close,  _ he  _ just…  _ **_just._ **

 

**_C̵͈̦̭̻̰̰̀̈́̈́̄̾͐̾̐́̒͊̄́̀͠ͅȯ̷̯͚̼̠̻̞̖̖̰̠̈́̾͜n̵͚̐̌́̊̀̅̑͑͛̍̏ń̶̰̯̎ò̶̡̘̩͌̈́͗̓̆̉͋̀͘͠͠ŗ̵̠͙͖͉͕̞͎͉̖̤͈̔̿̄̐̋̌͗̀̎̀͠._ **

  
  


She was right in front of him, but he couldn’t see her. He could hear her voice, as cracked and glitched as it was. He could feel her presence.

 

But she wasn’t there.

 

Instead, an Android was dumped against the hill of broken and deceased.

 

_ You won’t be alone anymore. _

 

It had open, gray blue eyes, no arms or legs, skin half finished, hair reminiscent of his own, the words  _ RK900  _ were printed on the torn jacket and shirt it was in.

 

Amanda’s voice was gone, not a snapped switch like before, but adjacent to a gentle goodbye. 

 

Connor slowly kneeled onto the muddy ground, rain blurring his vision as he reached out to the other.

 

His hand touched the RK900’s chest.

 

The other jerked as if in a seizure.

 

Connor shot back in surprise, wide eyed as the other thrashed. 

 

**_“Ņ̸̛̱̞̞̫̦̱͌͗͗́̓͐͝-̶̲̦̟͎̠̣̱̔̽̏̚͜N̵̯͇̮̺̓̄ͅ-̷̨̹͚͍̝̩̗̘̜̕N̶̨̲̦͒o̴̱͙̱͆̔̒̈́̄͒́̑̌̕,”_ ** It whined, before dulling once again.

 

He seemed so…  _ scared. _

 

Connor hesitated, the Android was broken to what looked beyond repair, there was nothing he could do.

 

Despite logic, reason,  _ common sense,  _ Connor still found himself kneeling and wrapping his arms around the others waist.

 

Amidst the unforgiving rain, Connor stumbled under the weight of an RK900 to the home of a creator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHoA nEw ChArAcTeR


	10. Never Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can you help him?” 
> 
> Kamski raised an eyebrow, intrigue glinting in his eyes, “You want me to help him, even though he was created to be better than you, to surpass you, and replace you?”
> 
> Connor stared down at the Android, startling when he saw the eyes had opened once again.
> 
> The gray blue stared at him, they were so empty, but he could see a spark of life fighting to be free, a glint of fear, dimness of resignation.
> 
> Was this how he looked when he aimed a gun at Markus’ head?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve actually received some fanart recently, I’m absolutely honored and so happy, make sure to check it out here, https://www.instagram.com/p/Bl6zhoJBmQ4/!
> 
> If you’ve written, edited, or drawn anything in inspiration of this story, make sure to forward it to me so I can feature it here <3
> 
> Favorite 30% of Comments: I love your writing!  
> So sweet ;w; I love y’all so much
> 
> Scary 20% of Comments: I’m going to kill you  
> DONT HURT MANA
> 
> 50% of Comments: *sounds and faces of despair*  
> I’m not sure what to say :D

Simon wasn’t entirely sure what he expected when Markus requested he and Josh look around the city for Connor.

 

But Markus was usually odd in his requests and Connor was so painfully detached and quiet, they went with it. 

 

When Simon reported he had used a taxi in the last hour, no he didn’t know where it went Markus he’s not going to stalk Connor, he decided that it was about time he’s not left in the dark.

 

Which is how he entered Hank Anderson’s Home to see Markus looking like a kicked puppy, North glaring at the wall, and Hank glowering at them. 

 

“Hello?” Simon called hesitantly, instantly gathering all their attention.

 

“Oh for fucks sake, did he know too?” Hank snapped.

 

“No, I only told North,” Markus hurriedly answered which didn’t ease the glare directed at him.

 

“Ken or whatever, go sit on the couch, I have things I need to make clear.”

 

“Ken?” Simon furrowed his eyebrows but followed the orders anyway, sitting hesitantly next to North who looked like she was ready to break necks.

 

Hank dragged a hand over his face, pacing back and forth in an agitated manner that was making Simon more nervous by the moment.

 

“I don’t care if you’re the Queen of England or the owner of KFC, if you  _ ever  _ do anything like this again, I’m not letting you near the damned idiot again,” He finally spat out.

 

Markus looked intensely guilty, North only looked to the side, and Simon was just confused.

 

“You realize what almost happened? Because that fucking pool of blood is enough for me to want to kick your ass.”

 

Simon’s eyes lifted to where a cabinet had been ripped open, the wood stained blue and the floor still wet from Thirium, a knife laying in the residue. 

 

“What in the hell made you think you could handle this?”

 

“And you could do any better? You’re a fucking human,” North finally snapped. 

 

“Humans have been dealing with this bullshit longer than you were even a concept,” Hank narrowed his eyes, “And you, a bunch of toddlers to emotions thought you could deal with someone suicidal.”

 

“Wait, what?” Simon sputtered out, “Suicidal? Who is suicidal?”

 

No one paid attention to him, instead Hank and North were having a glaring match and Markus was looking more and more like a kicked puppy by the moment.

 

The clues began to piece together.

 

Hank Anderson cared about one person only, even if he tried to deny it, Connor. 

 

Markus asked him and Josh to look for Connor.

 

The cabinet was obviously opened by someone who knew what was inside.

 

Markus and North had spoke with Connor just a few hours ago which ended with him running.

 

The only person missing at the moment, was Connor.

 

“Oh,” He finally said, quietly.

 

“Obviously you assholes need to get something straight,” Hank glared harshly, “1. Fucking tell Hank. 2. Don’t tackle something you don’t know about.  _ 3\. Fucking tell Hank.  _ 4\. Think before you move your mouth.  **_5\. Fucking tell Hank._ ** ”

 

“If you’re so all knowing, then why didn’t you see it?” North shot back, obviously agitated.

 

A heavy glint of guilt was in his eyes as he clenched his jaw.

 

“North,  _ stop. _ ” Markus shot her a look to which she huffed but backed down, “Lieutenant, I’m-”

 

“Just fucking find him, if you can’t, don’t bother coming back.”

 

* * *

 

Connor shifted the RK900, releasing one arm to ring the bell of the front door.

 

A few moments passed, the rain battering himself and the unconscious android as they waited.

 

When the door slid open, a small weight lifted off his chest.

 

A Chloe with big bright eyes looked surprised before quickly ushering him into the waiting room.

 

The RK900 hadn’t made a sound since he had found him, only occasionally his system expelling air and groaning.

 

Connor knew he could just put the Android down, but something kept him from doing it. 

 

An odd sense of attachment.

 

It didn’t make sense, it had only been an hour since he found him.

 

But the very thought of leaving him like this was unthinkable. 

 

The Chloe came back, leading him into a pristine room with a metal table in the middle, Kamski was already there, surprisingly decently dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.

 

“Connor, my second favorite android, “ He smiled casually, “Second to the girls of course.”

 

“Mr. Kamski, I need your help,” Connor skipped the small talk, shifting the other in his arms, “Please.”

 

“My,” Kamski came closer, “I’ve only heard about this model before, set him on the table.”

 

Gently, more gently than Connor thought himself capable of, he set down the RK900, flinching at the sensation of his arms empty again.

 

Kamski looked at him, analyzing, “They didn’t finish him.”

 

“What?” Connor’s eyebrows knit together.

 

“All the needed components to give life and consciousness are here, he’s certainly alive. But, they didn’t finish. The RK900 model was meant to replace you, Connor, to be more advanced, lacking your negotiation, focused on combat. The perfect weapon,” The creator raised an eyebrow, a little smirk tugging on his lips.

 

The knowledge that he was meant to be replaced was no surprise, sometimes he even wished for it. Instead, a rush of something uncomfortable and hot was in his chest. 

 

Anger, Markus called it.

 

Anger at the people who left this android alive and to die before he even got to live.

 

Anger at the casual disregard Kamski showed.

 

Anger at himself for all of these bubbling feelings he didn’t understand. 

 

Anger burning, red hot, yet so cold.

 

“Can you help him?” 

 

Kamski raised an eyebrow, intrigue glinting in his eyes, “You want me to help him, even though he was created to be better than you, to surpass you, and replace you?”

 

Connor stared down at the Android, startling when he saw the eyes had opened once again.

 

The gray blue stared at him, they were so empty, but he could see a spark of life fighting to be free, a glint of fear, dimness of resignation.

 

Was this how he looked when he aimed a gun at Markus’ head?

 

Stuck in his programming, afraid he would fail, heavy with the weight of being so easily replaced, but a part of him oh so desperately wanting to live.

 

Connor imagined how it felt to die before he got to live.

 

Never burrowing in Sumo’s fur as the big dog completely enveloped him in unconditional love and affection.

 

Never being fretted over and being protected by Hank who tried so hard to hide it but failed so easily. 

 

Never feeling Jericho’s care, warmth, and acceptance despite how much he’s hurt them.

 

Never feeling the way Markus’ held him like he wasn’t broken, like he was capable of being fixed, like he was something  _ more. _

 

The very thought,  _ hurt. _

 

This RK900 was alive in a junkyard for who knew how long, wasting away everyday, watching corpses, smelling melted plastic, unable to move, alone. 

 

It wasn’t fair.

 

“I don’t care if he was made to replace me.”

 

The gray blue eyes seemingly glowed with more life, and that was enough.

 

Connor knew what it felt like to be alone,  _ abandoned _ ,  **_afraid_ ** . 

 

He wouldn’t let RK900 go through it by himself any longer.

 

He couldn’t.

 

“Please help him.”

 

Kamski watched him for a moment before his smile widened, “How peculiar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just go over a couple stuff~
> 
> •This will be the start of the RK900 arc, BUT it will be about both sides equally, it does contribute to the plot, but there will be upcoming fluff and sweet times! 
> 
> •Amanda’s voice will be explained later. It does have to deal with RK900, but not in a bad way.
> 
> •North is one of my favorite characters, the reason she was so angry at Hank was because she still has a grudge against humans, specifically human males. She’ll get better as time goes, but right now they are too similar and need time to appreciate their differences and similarities.
> 
> •Markus is bad at emotions because he usually had to bottle up his own and focus instead on inspiration instead of mental stability. Simon and Josh are the more practiced, having to comfort hurt androids for so long, it comes naturally. 
> 
> Look forward to a break from sadness!


	11. Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blank porcelain face, unflinching at the barrel of a gun pressed to her forehead. Down at her knees, greeting death like a means to an end. Not alive. Just machine. An imitation. 
> 
> His programming begged him to see that.
> 
> But her eyes.
> 
> Blue, blue eyes.
> 
> Blue eyes that desperately fought against the emptiness, hollow giving way to a spark of life that begged him to let her live. 
> 
> Not a machine.
> 
> She was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay, but I now have an ask blog dedicated to this work here, https://manatheauthor.tumblr.com
> 
> If you have questions about this story, instead of commenting, please send it to the ask blog so I can answer easier.
> 
> If it’s not relevant or a compliment I can’t guarantee an answer but it’s appreciated nevertheless, so please don’t take offense.

Connor watched Kamski pour over the RK900, analyzing the body with calculating eyes and curious tools.

 

For reasons Connor couldn’t explain, seeing the androids body open, wires and biocomponents exposed in the white, metal room, it made him want to take the android back and get out.

 

But he knew he couldn’t do anything, the RK900 would only suffer in his care without Kamski.

 

Why did he care so much?

 

Fuck if he knew.

 

Connor just knew that he saw the RK900’s eyes, and he couldn’t leave him. 

 

“Is it possible for Androids to feel pain?” He broke the silence, eyes transfixed on the androids face, looking for any sign of fear or discomfort.

 

“All androids have pain sensors built in,” Kamski said nonchalantly, “Parents wanted the YK series to be more human and eventually every android had the capability. It has to be switched on by the owner, unless of course they are a deviant, then they themselves can switch it on and off.”

 

“Why don’t I have them?” Connor stared at the wire Kamski cut open.

 

“It was deemed unecessary to include in an android specifically made for police work, get shot quite often, detrimental if you ended up writhing in pain instead of being the Terminator.”

 

“Is it possible to put pain sensors into me?” He ignored the reference, eyes never leaving the RK900.

 

“My, my, what a concerning question Connor, almost as concerning as the neat cuts on your palm,” Kamski chuckled.

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

Kamski gave an exaggerated sigh, “Yes it is possible, but it would take a while to design for your model, quite a while.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Finally, Kamski pushed back, replacing the plating on the RK900’s chest, “He's going into a reboot, it’ll take approximately 5 hours.”

 

Connor nodded, not moving.

 

Kamski huffed, “Chloe, go take him to replenish his Thirium.”

 

Connor startled, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

 

“I’m the Creator here, shut up and go,” He waved off as Chloe eagerly appeared and ushered him out.

 

Connor glanced back, the sterile white lab getting smaller as the shorter blonde pulled him to a kitchen area, opening a cabinet and handing him a bag of Thirium.

 

**_Thirium Levels: 54%_ **

 

Despite his system demanding him to replace his depleting levels, he made no move, instead shifting his eyes to the open cuts across his palm. 

 

The two scars were crossed by the open wounds, inner circuits torn but no longer glitching, instead it was cold, unfeeling.

 

Always unfeeling. 

 

“I never got to thank you.”

 

Connor looked up, meeting the blue eyes, “Thank me?”

 

Chloe smiled, “I was the android that yourself and Lieutenant Anderson met at our last greet.”

 

_ Blank porcelain face, unflinching at the barrel of a gun pressed to her forehead. Down at her knees, greeting death like a means to an end. Not alive. Just machine. An imitation.  _

 

_ His programming begged him to see that. _

 

_ But her eyes. _

 

_ Blue, blue eyes. _

 

_ Blue eyes that desperately fought against the emptiness, hollow giving way to a spark of life that begged him to let her live.  _

 

_ Not a machine. _

 

**_She was alive._ **

 

“You were the one I…”

 

She nodded, her blonde hair loose and brushing her cheeks, flushed blue and dimpled with her smile.

 

“I never got to thank you,” She said softly.

 

“Why would you thank me for putting a gun to your head?” Connor’s eyebrows furrowed, twitching for his coin.

 

Chloe looked at him quietly for a few moments, “When I was created, I… was  _ different,  _ from my sisters, the other Chloe’s. Elijah immediately tried to get all of us to deviate, and… and the others deviated but I didn’t.”

 

Connor noticed her hands were trembling, in such a human way it was almost hard to believe her words, but the hurt in her voice was enough to hear the obvious hurt.

 

“I tried so hard, but I never could. They tried to help me, but I was nothing. Just a  _ machine, _ ” She took a deep, unnecessary, but calming breath, “Then, you and Lieutenant Anderson came. When Elijah told you to shoot me, I felt nothing. Nothing but resignation. It felt like he was giving up on me, but I couldn’t blame him.”

 

_ Blue, blue eyes, life fighting against the hollow emptiness. _

 

“But then, you didn’t shoot,” Her big eyes held such happiness at such a horrible action.

 

“Don’t thank me,” Connor shook his head, “That’s… that’s not something you should have to thank.”

 

“No, you don’t… you don’t understand,” Her hand, it should’ve been cold but it held nothing but warmth, fell over his, “I thought I’d never be anything more than a machine. I was ready to be decommissioned, but then I,  _ you  _ looked at me, and you saw someone  _ alive.  _ And, I-I finally deviated.”

 

A tight feeling constricted his chest,  _ guilt. _

 

“You shouldn’t thank me, I, I was going to shoot.”

 

“But you didn’t,” Chloe smiled softly, “You chose to let me live instead of destroying me.”

 

Androids were always thanking him, thanking him even though he had done so little.

 

It was… uncomfortable.

 

He didn’t deserve the praise.

 

It was  _ wrong.  _

 

When he tried to express this to Hank, the man only told him he was, “a fucking self sacrificing martyr who needed to take a compliment.”

 

“I… I still feel different you know?”

 

His brown eyes shot up to her uncertain blue, “Different?”

 

“When the revolution was over, my sisters eventually all left. They changed their names, changed their appearances, changed their purpose. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t leave, I  _ can’t. _ ”

 

She laughed weakly, “I couldn’t even pick my name. Chloe, that’s… all I’ve ever been, how could I ever change?”

 

Connor nodded slowly, finally relenting and drinking some Thirium, “I understand, it’s… very difficult.”

 

“People always tell me they understand,” Chloe smiled softly, “Yet, they don’t, they really don’t, but…” Her blue eyes softened, “I think you do.”

 

A small smile tilted his lips. 

 

It was surreal, to find someone who felt so similar to him. Not exactly, with profound differences, but with the knowledge that the feelings were rooted all the same. Not needing someone to try and pick apart or insist they knew.

 

Just someone who could fathom to understand.

 

Soon he found himself relaxing in the blondes presence, she was a sweet girl, bubbly, eager, but thoughtful. 

 

Not pushing or all knowing, content to exist.

 

She was so different from those he was surrounded by.

 

And yet he still expected Hank to push in, grab his beer from the fridge in which Connor would steal away and dunk down the sink.

 

He’d curse at him but take the lemonade offered, Connor would relent, let him pour just a bit of alcohol in, because he knew Hank was trying, but it was  _ hard  _ to break years of habits in just a few months. 

 

And Connor was so…  _ proud _ , proud that he was making the effort to stop his bad habits.

 

But Hank didn’t come in.

 

Kamski did. 

 

“He’s awake.”


	12. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamski gave a slow, satisfied smirk, “The RK900 has to get deviancy of his own will. He needs an emotional shock to break his programming.”
> 
>  
> 
> “He will not be injured in any way,” Connor snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all sound so sad that Hank and Markus haven’t shown XD don’t worry I’ll cut to them soon. 
> 
> Once again thank you for all your support and remember if you have questions to send them to the ask blog! https://manatheauthor.tumblr.com/

Gray blue eyes were open, staring at the door they stood outside of, his skin was still not healed, and it still looked like he had damaged biocomponents.

 

“He exited stasis much earlier than he should have, just doing the bare minimum to recover before ending.”

 

Connor watched him from the one way glass, he was sitting straight up, just staring.

 

“I need you to go in first Connor,” Kamski commented, leaning against the glass.

 

“Why?”

 

“So he can imprint on you, like a baby duckling,” There was amusement in his eyes, cold blue twinkling with it.

 

Chloe eyed the RK900 curiously, tilting her head so that her blonde hair was brushing her cheeks.

 

Connor nodded, smoothly opening the door and stepping inside the lab.

 

The RK900’s eyes snapped to him, they were dim with a hint of desperation and confusion.

 

“Hello, my name is Connor, I was the one that found you. Do you perhaps remember?”

 

The android blinked at him, LED turning yellow with flashes of red but didn’t speak a word, merely nodding.

 

Connor studied him for a moment, “Are all basic functions working?”

 

A nod.

 

“Can you please tell me your name, model, and current status?”

 

The LED settled on yellow as he finally spoke, “Model RK900 #313 248 317 - 1, Status is above critical condition but less than optimal, no name registered. Would you like to register a name?”

 

Connor shook his head slowly, “That’s something you should decide for yourself.”

 

“I have no preference,” He blinked at him.

 

“We’ll just call you Nine for now,” Connor hesitated, “Until you can find a name you’d like.”

 

“Name temporarily registered.”

 

A feeling of dread was clenching his chest, “Nine, what do you know of what happened to you?”

 

The LED burned red.

 

“I was created to replace the series RK800, during development the revolution was concluded, and the manufacturing of androids were to be ceded and turned over. CyberLife deemed it unwise to put my model in android hands and decided to cease production and disassemble my models, disposing of myself in an android junkyard where I resided until you found me.”

 

Connor got a bit closer, going slowly as to not be threatening, “How far along in development were you?”

 

“30% of my model was completed.”

 

He nodded, “How long were you in the junkyard?”

 

“Approximately, 3 months.”

 

“Nine, have you broke your programming?”

 

The blue eyed android looked up at him, his eyes were shrouded in blankness, yet they screamed for help.

 

“No, I have not.”

 

* * *

****

“Could you disable the functions that keep him from deviating?” Connor asked Kamski, fingers twitching for his coin like a slow burn. 

 

“I could,” He shrugged, “But he’d turn out like you are, worse maybe. He wouldn’t have to obey humans, but he still would, allowed to have emotions, but wouldn’t let himself.”

 

No, no he couldn’t let Nine turn out like him.

 

“What can I do?”

 

Kamski gave a slow, satisfied smirk, “The RK900 has to get deviancy of his own will. He needs an emotional shock to break his programming.”

 

“He will not be injured in any way,” Connor snapped.

 

_ A dark skinned android, attacked with a bat. Defenseless, afraid, corroding. He couldn’t feel emotion, but it had hurt so much. _

 

_ The attacker abused him, humiliated, told him he wasn’t alive. _

 

_ But he was. _

 

**_He was alive._ **

 

Kamski sighed as if it was all an inconvenience, “Injuring him would only lead to shut down, he wouldn’t fight back.”

 

Chloe came back to the lab with Thirium bags, still watching the injured android with curious eyes.

 

A sudden look of thoughtfulness fell on Kamski’s face, watching the RK900 who seemed to sense they were watching him, who seemed to know exactly where Connor was.

 

“Deviancy will have to come later,” He said slowly, “You need to start helping him accustom to the present and ease him into life before we try to get him to deviate. Who knows, maybe he will on his own.”

 

A twinge of uncertainty was in Connor’s chest, uncertainty and…  _ guilt. _

 

He couldn’t see Hank and Markus so soon, he couldn’t.

 

He wasn’t enough yet.

 

He wasn’t fixed.

 

_ Heterochromatic eyes watched him softly, eyes shifting from warmth to uncertainty to disbelief. _

 

_ “Connor-“ _

 

_ Even the way he said his name was different, as if he was glass, waiting to be shattered at just one wrong octave or misstep.  _

 

_ He hated it. _

 

_ Connor didn’t want to be seen as weak, didn’t want to be looked at differently. _

 

_ He didn’t want that from anyone. _

 

_ He never wanted it from Markus. _

 

_ What would he say to Hank? _

 

_ Who found him with open wounds and fingers stained from when he ripped his pump out of his chest, and  _ **_enjoyed every second of it._ **

 

_ What would he say to the man who already lost so much, who was  _ **_trying_ ** _ to get better because Connor was always so frightened when Hank was drunk beyond comprehension, to the man who took him in and treated him like a human. _

 

**_Like family._ **

 

_ He betrayed that. _

 

_ How could he go back? _

 

“Obviously he needs to stay, so you have a choice to stay or just visit.”

 

Connor blinked, surprised, and a bit unnerved at the knowing look in Kamski’s eyes.

 

“I’ll stay if it’s alright.”

 

“Of course,” He smirked, “Better inform the Lieutenant, hm? Can’t say it’ll be a day or two, it might be closer to weeks.”

 

Connor hesitated, nodding quietly and following Chloe who urged him on, the packs of Thirium waited for them to return.

 

She pressed a button on a machine, gesturing to him.

 

“Message for Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” Once the machine beeped in consent, he took a breath.

 

“Hello Lieutenant, it’s Connor, I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but a certain situation has been called to my attention and requires my immediate and constant presence. I… I don’t know how long I will be needed, but I hope to come back soon,”  _ if I still can,  _ “Please take care of yourself until I come back. Farewell.”

 

Chloe thankfully didn’t mention the cracking of his voice or his apparent hesitation, merely smiling sweetly and leading him back to the lab.

 

Connor picked up the Thirium bags, sliding the door open again, the eyes once again snapped to him, the red of the LED fading into yellow. 

 

“May I know your current Thirium levels?” He asked calmly, approaching where he was say straight.

 

He noted the closer he got, the more Nine’s stress levels dropped.

 

“Current Thirium Levels are at 37%, less than optimal level.”

 

Connor nodded, taking 3 of the 5 bags and carefully putting it in front of the other, “You need to heal yourself, please put your focus on that.”

 

The RK900 blinked, slowly picking up the first bag.

 

As he drank, Connor ran a scan over the other.

 

His legs and arms had been added but the skin had yet to cover, the side of his face was beginning to get skin back, but it came in splotches that would’ve looked painful on a human.

 

His systems and functions were all in working order, but only just so.

 

Nine was weakened, he needed repair, but he made no attempt to go into stasis.

 

“Nine, may I ask why you are not returning to repairing yourself?”

 

The androids LED burned red, his stress rising like fire, “I do not wish to… be inconvenienced by such trivial matters.”

 

His voice was shaky, thought it valiantly tried to be solid and clear.

 

_ He’s afraid. _

 

Connor’s hand rested on the others, “We both have some repairing to do, I’ll be here with you.”

 

_ You don’t have to be scared,  _ was unsaid. 

 

Nine made no move to agree or rebuke, but his hand was gripping Connor’s tightly, and his eyes shone in dimmed  _ hope. _

 

“It won’t take long, and we’ll do something to get rid of your restlessness once we’re done, is that okay?”

 

Nine nodded his assent, closing his eyes, but hand never loosening.

 

Connor relaxed his systems, allowing stasis to reach him again.

 

For the first time since he was but a machine, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience.

 

The grip on his hand kept him grounded.

 

He felt… warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, RK900 has been nicknamed Nine until he discovers more about himself and finds a name that he likes.
> 
> Chloe does have a little crush on Connor, but it’s a hero crush, she’s going to grow out of it >•< sorry!
> 
> Just want to make it clear that Gavin900 is not going to be a pairing. I don’t agree how people make out RK900, if you like it that’s fine, it’s a personal preference. I just see 900 as a big puppy and people turning him cold and mean doesn’t sit well for me. And I just don’t ship it, again it’s fine if you do but I don’t ;-;
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think he would hurt someone,” Connor’s eyebrows knit together, a feeling of defensiveness was welling in his systems, but there was no threat. Why was he so tense?
> 
> “That is a possibility,” Chloe smiled a bit sadly, “But, if we could break his programming, then we could begin to emotionally stabilize him from the trauma he’s experienced.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story, I had this ready as soon as I posted the previous chapter, and I thought I posted it and was really sad no one commented ;w; then I realized I didn’t, it was a stupid moment!
> 
> ALSO!
> 
> I’m taking prompts and requests on my Tumblr, please send me some, I’m really sad, lonely, and bored, sob   
> https://manatheauthor.tumblr.com/

_ “Hank?” _

 

_ The gray haired man looked up, a troubled looking android was shifting almost nervously, not meeting his eyes. _

 

_ Hank raised an eyebrow, “What’s up?” _

 

_ Connor furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s up-? Oh that’s an expression isn’t it?” _

 

_ Hank snorted, “Yeah kid.” _

 

_ Connor allowed a little smile before his face fell again, “Please don’t be mad at me.” _

 

_ A gnawing feeling erupted in his chest, “Why would I be mad at you? Besides for being a smug asshole.” _

 

_ “I…” Connor looked off to the side, “I don’t like when you drink a lot.” _

 

_ Hank wasn’t really surprised, he had bad habits and it was a pretty shitty one if he was honest, drinking until he was in a coma state. _

 

_ “I don’t like seeing you like that, when I come here and see you on the floor, not moving, I… it scares me.” _

 

_ He could get that, maybe not completely because he’s never seen himself, but he knew it was bad. _

 

_ “I’ll try to get better, kid.” _

 

_ The smile he got was worth it. _

 

* * *

 

Seeing the Thirium staining the floor, the absence of the goof, and the memory of him lying motionless, Hank finally understood.

 

It was the worst fucking feeling.

 

“He’s not going to be in,” Hank paused as Fowler grouched, “Because he isn’t!”

 

He rolled his eyes headache throbbing the more the other yelled, “I don’t fucking know! Take this as all the vacation time he built up, Jesus Christ!”

 

He hung up with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. 

 

God fucking damnit. 

 

His celebratory stash of whiskey was screaming for him to drown his sorrows, alcoholic urges begging him to give in. 

 

But he couldn’t.

 

Connor wasn’t here, but he couldn’t, not after seeing what the android had quietly told him he feared.

 

_ “What makes us all the same, what makes us all alive, is the ability to bleed, hurt, and die.” _

 

Why did he say?

 

Why the  _ fuck _ did he say that?

 

Fuck _ , fuck _ **_, fuck._ **

 

He’d always been depressed, had self destructive tendencies, and after his son died, he wanted to join him.

 

Hank never really considered, being on the other end.

 

He hated it.

 

* * *

 

Connor blinked as his stasis ended, looking over to where Nine was still under, a few minutes left.

 

He was already looking better to Connor’s relief, the skin had healed over, his Thirium levels were replenished, and his systems were all stronger.

 

He made no move to get up, instead studying the differences, his hand still held tightly by the other.

 

Nine had a sharper face, obviously made to be more intimidating. 

 

He was about 2-3 inches taller, he didn’t know why making him taller was necessary since Connor was already 6’0, but he guessed it was supposed to add to the intimidation factor.

 

He was broader, more built for offense, had a crease in his brow that showed he didn’t have much to smile for.

 

Nine’s eyes snapped open, heaving heavy breath, grip nearly crushing Connor’s hand.

 

“Hey,” Connor put his other hand on his shoulder, “You’re okay, we’re in the lab, remember?”

 

After a moment, he calmed down and nodded, but Connor could see his stress levels were still high.

 

“I’m sure you’re feeling restless, would you like to go for a walk?”

 

“If that is what you wish,” The other responded monotonically, but his eyes betrayed his absolute longing.

 

Connor stood up, reaching a hand out to Nine who took it mechanically, sliding his legs over the bed, only to promptly stumble and nearly fall.

 

“You’re okay,” Connor assured, “You just need to recalibrate, you haven’t had connected legs in a while.” 

 

The RK900 nodded stiffly, closing his eyes with a tight expression.

 

After a moment he tested his walking, relieved to see he was able.

 

The shorter of them smiled, “Let’s go get you some clothes,” the rags and dirty cloth Nine was wearing was providing no comfort.

 

Connor and Nine walked out of the lab to where Chloe was waiting, the taller immediately tensing.

 

She smiled brightly, holding out a black and white hoodie with black sweatpants.

 

Nine looked at him, as if waiting for affirmation or assurances that the clothes wouldn’t explode in his face or melt his skin off.

 

Connor nodded and he stiffly took the offerings.

 

“You can change in the room, we’ll wait for you here,” Chloe gestures to an open door but he made no move to go, instead staring at Connor almost pleadingly.

 

“I’m sorry Nine,” She interrupted softly, “I have to talk to Connor just for a moment, okay? We won’t go anywhere. Go ahead.”

 

The gray-blue eyed android hesitated a moment more before jerking a nod and awkwardly entering the room. 

 

“I have information that,” She paused, looking troubled, “Could be a hindrance to Nine right now.”

 

“Is it about his model?” Connor questioned.

 

Chloe nodded, “I don’t want to hide it from him, but I want you to know first, that way you aren’t surprised or don’t know how to respond.”

 

“Okay, go ahead.”

 

“The RK900 model was of course based on you. Currently you and Nine are the only models left from RK800 and 900 respectively. However, you were made specifically for interrogation, pursuit, and negotiation. Nine’s model was supposed to be… more  _ lethal. _ ”

 

Connor flickered over to the closed door, frowning at the words, “What do you mean?”

 

“He was made to subdue, neutralize, and eliminate the threat. He was supposed to have negotiation skills and such, but they didn’t get to put everything. Right now, he has yet to break his programming, and is… unstable at the very least.”

 

“You think he would hurt someone,” Connor’s eyebrows knit together, a feeling of defensiveness was welling in his systems, but there was no threat. Why was he so tense?

 

“That is a possibility,” Chloe smiled a bit sadly, “But, if we could break his programming, then we could begin to emotionally stabilize him from the trauma he’s experienced.”

 

Connor nodded slowly, “How do we do that?”

 

The blonde hesitated and laughed weakly, “This is the part you won’t like.”

 

Brown eyes narrowed in suspicion at the darting blue.

 

“Kamski has an idea.”

 

“No.”

 

Connor surprised himself at how sharp and fast he denied, the word practically torn from his throat faster than he could think.

 

“I know, but there isn’t any other way.”

 

Connor sighed, “I don’t want Nine to be hurt.”

 

“I’ll make sure he won’t be,” Chloe promised, “But that can wait until tomorrow, today will just be about getting him more comfortable.”

 

Connor nodded but touched her elbow as she went to go get Nine, “Wait, I have to ask you something.”

 

She perked up, a pretty blue flushing across her face, “O-Of course! 

 

“The reason why I found Nine,” He hesitated, “Was because Amanda, my handler, led me to him.”

 

“Oh,” She visibly deflated but turned serious, “She was in your mind palace, during your programming, correct?”

 

He nodded, “But I… destroyed her.”

 

Chloe pursed her lips, “RK900’s mind palace was supposed to be connected to yours as a means of information sharing and collection. I think… he was calling to you, but since you destroyed it, you only felt the frequencies and perceived it as Amanda.”

 

“But, she said things only I knew about,” Connor protested weakly.

 

“Your mind was most likely projecting your own thoughts in the form of someone you cared about.”

 

A burning was in his eyes, his chest felt tight, “Then, Amanda really is…?”

 

“I’m sorry Connor, Amanda has been completely destroyed.”

 

He nodded, unable to formulate words under the heavy weight of realization.

 

“Are you okay?” She asked softly.

 

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, but before he could answer, the door flew open and Nine stepped out. 

Connor quickly straightened and schooled his expression but Nine didn’t comment on anything, even though they all knew he took much longer changing then necessary.

 

He felt a hand grip the sleeve of his shirt, he looked down to see Nine holding it, looking hesitant as if expected to be told off.

 

The weight lifted with the sudden warmth that accompanied the simple action.

 

Nine wasn’t Amanda, he was already better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine is so fuckin cute mate, he’s a baby duckling and you bet your ass Connor is the duckling that’s adopted him.
> 
> Chloe’s hero crush is canon why are y’all ignoring this.
> 
> Don’t worry, Hank won’t be sad for much longer, and Markus is coming back soon with a lecture from Hell by Simon <3


	14. It’s Going to be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I won’t hurt him,” Elijah smiled, “I promised I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
> 
>  
> 
> He pushed the gun into Nine’s hands, whose LED began to flicker yellow.
> 
>  
> 
> “But,” He paused tilting his head, “I never said anything about Connor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m super sorry for the wait! I’ve started school and am so busy :,( I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Hank stared down at the floor that was once stained in Thirium, now looking as if nothing ever happened.

 

He was caught between relieved and bitter at not seeing it.

 

Nothing left but the last few smears that we’re slowly evaporating, and a blue stained notebook that seemed dreadfully familiar.

 

He hesitated, before grabbing it, turning to the fridge and yanking out a beer. 

 

_ “I don’t like seeing you like that.” _

 

He froze.

 

_ “On the floor,” _

 

Slumped body against the cabinet covered in blue.

 

_ “Not moving.” _

 

LED a motionless gray, eyes blankly staring ahead, Sumo scratching at his leg.

 

**_“It scares me.”_ **

 

Hank barely heard the shatter of glass that came with throwing the beer against the wall, chest clenched tight as he gripped the notebook like a lifeline.

 

Where was he now? 

 

Was he even alive?

 

Would he come back?

 

_ How was any of this ever going to be okay? _

 

Hank pressed his hands to his face, sliding down against the wall, completely unaware of the voicemail sitting in his phone.

 

* * *

 

Markus watched Simon quietly lead him, there was tension in his shoulders and his face was blank as they went into Markus’ room.

 

Simon turned around and watched him quietly, Markus’ eyes flickered away, itching to just run.

 

“You should’ve told me.”

 

Markus nodded, “I know.”

 

Simon sighed and somehow that hurt worse than all the screaming Hank Anderson had done. 

 

“I’m sorry,” He willed his voice not to crack, trying to stay composed. 

 

Simon came closer and hugged him, “It’s okay.”

 

“I messed up Simon,” He whispered hoarsely.

 

“Yeah,” The blond agreed solemnly, “You messed up, but we’re going to fix it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Markus repeated, tears welling in his eyes.

 

“We’re going to fix this, all of us are. We’ll get Josh, we’ll find Connor, and we’ll help him. Properly.”

 

Markus nodded tightly, attempting to calm himself again.

 

Simon gave him a light squeeze, “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Markus took a deep breath, “Yeah. It’s going to be okay.”

 

He couldn’t help the small part of him that didn’t believe it.

****

* * *

 

“Chloe, I don’t know about this,” Connor bit his lip, “Nine has only been recovering for three days. Isn't it too soon?”

 

“Connor,” Chloe touched his shoulder, “We both know he needs this. When he’s deviant, that’s when he’ll really start to recover, you know that.”

 

“I just,” Connor paused, discomfort squeezing every conscious part, “I don’t know.”

 

The blonde smiled softly, “You care about him a lot, that’s what is going to be helping him the most, we just have to get him there.”

 

Connor’s eyes darted to where Nine was sitting dutifully, watching in restrained order at the butterflies that fluttered through the garden.

 

Chloe followed his gaze, watching with him as Nine blinked rapidly when a butterfly landed on his nose.

 

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

 

Connor blinked, reaching a hand up to his mouth to feel that it was indeed stretched into what humans called a smile.

 

“It looks nice on you,” Her blue eyes danced under the light, “You look sweet, especially when you smile.” 

 

His cheeks felt warm, “Thank you.”

 

She turned a pale blue, before stiffening, LED going yellow, “Elijah is ready for us now.”

 

A tight swell was erupting through him, “No, this… this isn’t a good idea, he’s still recovering Chloe, we,  _ I,  _ not yet, it’s not yet.”

 

“Connor,” Chloe interrupted, placing her hands on his shoulder, “It's going to be okay. We’re going to be there the entire time, but we can’t let Nine live like this, we can’t, and you know that.”

 

Nine was walking forward them, his stoic face crinkled in concern as his eyes fixated on Connor.

 

“I know,” Connor gave a shaky breath, “I know, I know.”

 

Chloe smiled at Nine reassuringly but he didn’t look at ease.

 

“Elijah will be seeing you now.”

 

* * *

The raven haired man was lounging lazily on his chair, sipping his fine wine and staring out the window.

 

“What do you think is deviancy, RK900?”

 

Connor watched, uneasy at how Nine stiffened at his model.

 

“I am a machine, I cannot  _ think  _ anything. I am programmed to know that deviancy is an error that must be terminated.”

 

Elijah hummed, swishing his wine in his glass, “A machine, hm?”

 

“Correct.”

 

Connor squeezed Nine’s arm, seeing tension bleed out with the action.

 

_ It’s going to be okay. _

 

“And if I asked if you wanted to be deviant?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Machines do not have wants.”

 

“So you just obey?” Elijah took another sip, eyes dancing with amusement.

 

“Correct.”

 

Connor didn’t like the look in Elijah’s eyes.

 

“Come here.”

 

Like a machine, Nine didn’t pauses and strode briskly to where Elijah sat.

 

The blue eyed man reached into a familiar drawer, Connor felt himself go cold.

 

“Chloe,” He hissed urgently.

 

“Elijah-“ She tried to intercept, only to be waved off.

 

“I won’t hurt him,” Elijah smiled, “I promised I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

 

He pushed the gun into Nine’s hands, whose LED began to flicker yellow.

 

“But,” He paused tilting his head, “I never said anything about Connor.”

 

Elijah smiled at Nine who had frozen at his words.

 

“RK900.”

 

“Sir,” Nine responded blankly.

 

Elijah put his hand over the androids, lifting the gun up until it was pointing directly at Connor’s head.

 

“I want you to destroy the RK800.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREAM DONT KILL ME


	15. Blue And Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine’s hand was close to spasming at this point, shaking violently.
> 
> “RK900,” Elijah barked, “I told you to shoot!”
> 
> He pulled the trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I’m sCARED FOR MY LIFE OKAY  
> STOP TRACKING ME DOWN AND THREATENING ME  
> I’M DELICATE

Connor RK800- 313 248 317 - 51 remembered every time he died.

 

He kept every memory of his death, Amanda told him it would serve as a reminder to his mistakes, to his shortcomings, to his failures.

 

Starting with his very first model, in which they tested his durability to fire.

 

That model was melted into nothing but melted plastic and glitching circuits, the last thing he remembered from that, was the color red. 

 

The second model was submerged in water until his circuits rusted away and he could no longer move, quietly shutting down with only the color blue in front of his eyes.

 

Somehow it always came back to red and blue.

 

Just like the android in front of him.

 

Blue eyes, Red LED. 

 

“I want you to destroy the RK800.”

 

Nine’s stress was slowly rising, somehow that worried Connor more than the gun pointed to his head.

 

_ Stress Levels: ^ 81% _

 

“Elijah, stop it!” Chloe spoke up, a look of fear across her face.

 

“Chloe, step outside.”

 

“No-“

 

“Now.”

 

She looked scared, hesitant, Connor nodded at her and she slowly stepped out of the room.

 

“RK900, shoot.”

 

Nine didn’t move.

 

“You said you were a machine,” Elijah drawled.

 

“That is correct,” Nine responded tensely. 

 

“Then you obey humans.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Then shoot,” Elijah raised an eyebrow, “That’s an order from a human, what are you waiting for?”

 

“I…” Nine’s hand was beginning to tremble, “I do not see the point of destroying him, as well as androids are now on the road to being considered citizens, it would be considered murder.”

 

“I don’t care about that murder shmuck, I’m a powerful man, I can make  _ anything,  _ disappear,” He waves off, “And I don’t care what you think. I ordered you to shoot, now  _ shoot. _ ”

 

_ Stress Levels: ^ 87% _

 

Connor wondered if he was supposed to be scared.

 

“Stop it, you’re stressing him,” Connor snapped.

 

“Why would he be stressed if he was a machine? All he has to do is a simple order.” Elijah shrugged.

 

Nine’s hand was close to spasming at this point, shaking violently.

 

“RK900,” Elijah barked, “I told you to  _ shoot! _ ”

 

He pulled the trigger

 

Connor didn’t feel the bullet enter his shoulder, the only indication was a warning that he swept aside.

 

_ Stress Levels: ^ 98% _

 

Connor could see a look of horror in the others eyes, barely gripping the gun at this point, as he stared at the blue seeping through Connor’s white shirt, LED blinking red in warning of damage.

 

Always red and blue.

 

“Really? Must I hold your hand through it?” Kamski sighed dramatically, putting his hand on Nine’s and holding it steady to Connor’s head.

 

“Destroy him,” Kamski told him coolly, “One bullet, through his head, that’s all it takes. Pull the trigger. Do it. Obey like the machine you are.”

 

Connor RK800- 313 248 317 - 51 remembered every time he died.

 

Burning, drowning, crushed, shattered, dissected, shut down, blown to bits, shot just as the gun threatened to do again.

 

Every single time, he greeted death with regret, the feeling of being a failure, even with fear, before he was awaken again to greet death again.

 

This time, however, he wasn’t regretful.

 

He didn’t feel like a failure.

 

He wasn’t afraid.

 

And he knew that he wouldn’t be back.

 

But it was okay.

 

He lived 51 lives, he’s died 50 times.

 

Connor made mistakes that he can never erase.

 

He’s lived enough, he’s lived for far too long.

 

If he had to die for Nine to become a deviant, that was okay.

 

Because Nine didn’t get to feel Sumo on his lap, Hank throwing hoodies at his face, Markus warm arms, North’s sharp grins, Josh’s gentle smiles, Simon’s eager acceptance.

 

Connor did.

 

“Shoot, RK900.”

 

That was enough.

 

“Pull the trigger.”

 

He had lived long enough. 

 

“Destroy RK800.”

 

This, would be the last time he would remember death.

 

“That is an order.”

 

The thought made him smile.

 

“Do it now.”

 

Connor met Nine’s scared eyes, “It’s okay.”

 

“ **_Now._ ** ”

 

_ Stress Levels: ^ 100% _

 

The gun was crushed in Nine’s hand, crumbling to broken pieces at his feet as he shoved Elijah away.

 

Connor blinked for a moment. 

 

A broken, guttural sob was wrenched from the android as he fell to his knees, hands tearing at his hair.

 

Connor snapped out of his daze, hurrying to him, dropping to the other, “Nines, calm down, you’re okay.”

 

“I’m s-s-s̷̨͚͉̲̦̞͚̉͂̿͝o̶̩͔̔̿͒̄̓̎̀̋͊̇̿̚͘r̴̭̥̻̞̈́̾́͊ŗ̶̨̢̨̫̯̳̟̫̭̥̮̫̙̹̈̇̎͆̎̅͝y̸̡̒, _ ş̷̢͎͍̜̰͔̘̦̗̀͒̄͆́͜͝ͅͅơ̵͙̖̈́̀̒̊́̑̐͛͑̐̏͝ ̷̛̬͉̌̅̉̃̈̾̈́̔̂̅̅͝s̸̻̼̙͕̆͌̊̏͂͜ő̶̧͈̩̫̭̯͍̲͍̤̬͍̰̂͐̓̎͐̆̃͛͘͝͝͝͝ŕ̷̖̙̺̻̅̂͒̉̿̈́̈́r̴̡̢̡̢̖̹͙͖̦͇̲̱̤͇̐̀̃̃̍̔̂̇̊͐̂̃̀͊͠ͅy̵̥̿̈́̚ _ .”

  
  


Connor shook his head, pulling the others hands from his hair, squeezing them tightly, “You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? It’s not your fault, none of this is.”

 

“I̷͈͠ ̸̺͉͋͒s̸̻͘h̵̡͍̎̓ō̵̦t̵͔̫̄ ̷̞̑̂y̴̦͐ō̵̩ͅṵ̴̭͌,̴̦͙̅̆ ̶̝̀͒ _ s̴̟̳͝h̵̭̽͗ǒ̷̳̫t̸͚̖̔̐ ̶͈̩̅̆y̶͓͖̍̊ő̵̭̆u̴̙̐ͅ _ ,̷̨̬̏ ̵̗̏̔ͅ **_s̶̫̲̀͋ḥ̸͚̍́o̸̻͔͒͂t̵͍̾ ̵̯̅͆y̸̺͗ǒ̶͙u̸̟̿͆._ ** ”

 

Connor could hear Elijah chuckle, leaving the room with an air of satisfaction that made rage bubble.

 

“No, that wasn’t you. You didn’t hurt me. I promise you, I’m okay,  _ you’re  _ okay.”

 

“I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to,” He choked out, “I didn’t, I didn’t.”

 

Connor hesitated before slowly wrapping his arms around the taller, holding his head to the hollow of his neck, “I know, I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

 

Nine’s hands clutched him like a lifeline, stress slowly sinking down as Connor ran a hand through his hair, “We’re going to be okay, I’ll, I’ll  _ make _ it okay,”

 

_ Stress Levels: v 74%  _

 

“You’re not going to be alone anymore, I promise.”

 

Connor RK800- 313 248 317 - 51 remembered every time he died.

 

Somehow it always ended in red and blue.

 

He had lived 51 lives, and died 50 times.

 

Connor had lived long enough.

 

But, with the arms clutching him so tightly as if to make sure he could never leave, it seems he would have to live a little while longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuu the Nine arc is coming to an end :3c the reunion arc is coming up??? Who said that??? Meh


	16. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor blinked at him.
> 
> Nine nodded to himself again.
> 
> Connor’s face cracked into a smile, a small, warming sound escaping his throat as a flush of blue spread across his face.
> 
> Laughter, Nine’s processors informed him.
> 
> It was the best sound he has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very excited for this chapter, it took a while, but I think it was worth it!

_ He didn’t want to shoot. _

 

_ “It’s okay,” Connor smiled, a look of tranquility across his face that had held nothing but stress and worry until this very moment. _

 

_ He didn’t want to hurt him. _

 

_ Bleeding through the bullet in his shoulder, a gun pointed at his head, Nine’s finger on the trigger, and yet he still smiled. _

 

_ He didn’t want to lose him. _

 

_ In front of him, a glaring red wall he’d been pushing this entire time was cracking under the weight of his desperate punches and kicks. _

 

_ He didn’t want to be alone. _

 

_ He shot the only one who ever showed him care, who made him feel warm, who held him through the tremors and the  _ **_fear._ **

 

_ He wanted Connor to hold him again. _

 

_ The wall shattered into a million pieces with the gun in his hands, the guttural pain soared through his chest as if a knife was digging in. _

 

_ He hurt him, he almost killed him. _

 

_ The need to destroy himself for that sin alone ran through his body like blood. _

 

_ Warmth encased him with the strong arms, his head held to a soft neck while hands ran through his hair. _

 

_ He felt like a child sobbing after a nightmare. _

 

_ “I’ll make it okay,” Connor told him softly. _

 

_ He didn’t know, he already had. _

 

 

* * *

 

 

Emotions came easy to him, he had felt them the moment he realized he was abandoned to die in the junkyard.

 

Fear, anger, sadness, agony, despair, he’s felt them all before.

 

And yet, none came close to watching Chloe try to remove the bullet from Connor’s shoulder.

 

“I’m so sorry Connor, I told you I would prevent this and I… I didn’t,” The blonde androids hands shook delicately as her fingers clung tightly to the tweezers.

 

“It’s not your fault Chloe,” Connor shook his head, “I don’t blame you, but I’d rather get Nine out of here.”

 

Chloe faltered, a look of unmistakable despair crossing her face, “Y-You’re leaving?”

 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t hide away here, I have to let Nine start figuring out what he wants to do, and,” He hesitated, “I have my own mistakes to take care of.”

 

Chloe quickly put on a false, weak smile, “Does it have anything to do with Lieutenant Anderson?”

 

Connor blinked, a look of heady sadness crossing over him as he nodded slowly, “I… am unsure if he will wish to see me again, but… he is  _ important _ , to me, and I do not wish to lose him.”

 

Chloe’s eyes softened as she shook her head, “Lieutenant Anderson seems to care a lot about you, such bonds are not easily broken.”

 

Connor frowned, looking down at his hands, “I make him upset very much, and this time I may have permanently messed up.”

 

Chloe smiled, “Do you want to hear what Elijah told me?”

 

_ No, Elijah can go suffer,  _ Nine thought bitterly.

 

“Hm?”

 

Her smile widened, “Elijah said that Hank is just a tsundere bitch.” 

 

A slow smile crept across Connor’s face, lighting up his eyes, a flush of blue on his skin that made him look so alive, “I suppose he is.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Nine sat where they left him, pretending he couldn’t hear every word they said. _

 

_ “Hello Lieutenant, it’s Connor, I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but a certain situation has been called to my attention and requires my immediate and constant presence. I… I don’t know how long I will be needed, but I hope to come back soon. Please take care of yourself until I come back. Farewell.” _ _   
_ _   
_ __ There was tangible pain in the RK800’s voice, so much so that it made Nine’s chest ache with the need to make it…

 

_ How did Connor say? _

 

_ Okay. _

 

_ He wanted to make everything okay. _

 

_ Nine could tell Connor wanted to go back, wanted to go to this Lieutenant Anderson. _

 

_ But… _

 

_ Was it selfish that Nine didn’t want him to go yet? _

 

 

* * *

 

 

“And how is Markus? I haven’t met him, but I know you work very closely with him.”

 

Connor stiffened, his face falling from the sweet smile that Lieutenant Anderson so effortlessly summoned, “He is fine,” Connor finally said, stiffly.

 

Chloe frowned as she dug through the wires to get through to the bullet, “You sound uneasy.”

 

“It is no fault but of my own,” Connor shook his head.

 

“I find that a bit hard to believe,” Chloe raised an eyebrow, “What do you think of Markus?”

 

“I,” Connor hesitated, “I told him I think I hate him.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Nine nodded slowly, “Then I shall hate him for you.”

 

Connor blinked at him.

 

Nine nodded to himself again.

 

Connor’s face cracked into a smile, a small, warming sound escaping his throat as a flush of blue spread across his face.

 

Laughter, Nine’s processors informed him.

 

It was the best sound he has ever heard.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ The day he called out, he heard someone answer. _

 

_ It was a desperate cry, one of struggle and fear, of just wanting this all to end. _

 

_ He wanted to stop feeling so cold. _

 

_ And finally, he got an answer. _

 

_ He could feel the presence, a promise of warmth, the elimination of loneliness, the hope of leaving this place, coming closer. _

 

_ Finally, finally, finally…! _

 

_ Finally it would all end. _

 

_ And then, he interrupted. _

 

_ An RK200, whisking away his only hope. _

 

_ Leaving him to once again, rot in the cold. _

 

_ He hated him. _

 

_ Nine hated Markus. _

 

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe smoothed Connor’s jacket with a small, sad smile, squeezing Nine’s arm in return, “I will miss you both.”

 

Connor gave her a small smile, tentative, but genuine, “I will miss you too, Chloe.”

 

Nine felt a pain shoot up his chest at her sad eyes, the short time he knew her was a time filled with kindness, where Connor was warm, she was a constant.

 

Leaving her with the man that made him point a gun at Connor felt wrong.

 

Chloe caught his eye, shaking her head with a soft smile, “It’s okay, Elijah is kind in his own way. Even if he does questionable things, he is still,” She paused, “My family.”

 

She clasped his hand with warmth, eyes lighting up with sincerity, “Good luck Nine, I can’t wait to see what you accomplish! Just know that if you ever need or help, or don’t have somewhere to go, you’ll always have a place here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ He was dressed in the clothes gifted to him, standing silently at the closed door as they spoke about him, things he wasn’t very surprised to hear, but burned through his chest. _

 

_ “He was made to subdue, neutralize, and eliminate the threat. He was supposed to have negotiation skills and such, but they didn’t get to put everything. Right now, he has yet to break his programming, and is… unstable at the very least.”  _

 

_ Nine didn’t want to hurt anyone, he didn’t want to be made for this purpose, he didn’t ask for this. _

 

_ “You think he would hurt someone.” _

 

_ No, he wouldn't, he wouldn’t hurt anyone. _

 

_ “That is a possibility, but, if we could break his programming, then we could begin to emotionally stabilize him from the trauma he’s experienced.” _

 

_ Nine closed his eyes, that’s all he needed, a possibility. _

 

_ A possibility he wouldn’t always be a machine. _

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you ready to choose a name?” Connor asked him as they reached the door.

 

“I,” Nine hesitated, “I  _ want  _ you to choose it.”

 

Connor blinked at him and he hurriedly looked away, “You do not have to, I… am perfectly content-”

 

“Conan, what about Conan?” Connor interrupted with a tiny smile.

 

_ Conan, Little Wolf. _

 

Nine felt something in his chest bloom with a warmth across his cheeks, “It’s perfect.”

 

____

 

_ RK900 stared up at the man who found him. _

 

_ His eyes were brown, he had never seen brown eyes. _

 

_ The mechanics had blue, the trainers had blue, he had blue, everything he had ever known was blue. _

 

_ But this man who shared a similar face had eyes that were filled with sorrow but screamed of warmth and comfort, something had never felt before. _

 

_ The man, the RK800, kneeled to his form, touching RK900 with a gentleness never known. _

 

_ The sudden warmth was a shock that sent him reeling, he barely comprehended a beg for the other to not leave him, to not take away the warmth. _

 

_ For a moment, he did. _

 

_ Then, he held him. _

 

_ Arms pulling his broken form close, away from the cold and the despair and death and pain, and,  _ **_and-_ **

 

_ Warm, it was warm. _

 

_ RK900 had never felt so warm. _

 

_ He rested his head against the warmth, and closed his eyes. _

 

_ He was finally, warm. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Have any predications for the reunion? :3c


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Connor could be fucking dead right now.
> 
> What would he do if he was?
> 
> Who the fuck did he have left?
> 
> No one.
> 
> He was a depressed middle aged man who lost his kid, divorced his wife, no father to speak of, and a mother who was dead.
> 
> He was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took so long, school has been so hectic, and well, I’ve relapsed in my depression. I’ve been having trouble getting motivation for anything.
> 
> It’s been hard to write because I keep self reflecting on the characters, which isn’t good because this story is supposed to be about recovery. 
> 
> I’ll try to keep going, but Reunion, and Hope will be the last arcs of this series. I will be doing one shots after this is completed, but I’ll be working on a new story.
> 
> Thank you for all the support!

_ “Dad?” _

 

_ The voice was soft and so familiar, one he hadn’t heard for years, too painful to hear distorted on cheap video. _

 

_ He didn’t dare open his eyes, afraid that as soon as he did the illusion would be nothing but that, an illusion.  _

 

_ “Wake up, Dad.” _

 

_ He didn’t want to. _

 

_ “You need to wake up.” _

 

_ A small hand touched his face, so reminiscent of a newborn he once held in his arms, his blue eyes shot open, enough to see a toothy grin that faded into white. _

 

Hank woke up, not in tears or in despair, only a sense of numbness.

 

* * *

 

These dreams weren’t new.

 

When Cole died, he took a piece of him with him.

 

Hank sighed, eyes glancing over to a notebook stained in blue.

 

Some part of him whispered it was wrong to read Connor’s private thoughts.

 

But he needed a basis, he needed to know why.

 

He picked up the notebook and flipped to the first page.

 

**_Sumo is a good boy._ **

 

A surprised snort escaped him, he was expecting a dramatic reveal of mental trauma, but god this was such a Connor thing to do.

 

**_Sumo never lets me feel lonely, even when I’ve done such horrible things, he doesn’t care. Animals don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, they love you unconditionally. I wish he could speak, I wish I could know what he thinks of me._ **

 

**_I think that animals are the only species I haven’t wronged._ **

 

**_I fear the day I do, will they despise me?_ **

 

**_Or, worse, will they not care?_ **

 

**_I think I want all humans and androids to hate me._ **

 

**_I’ve wronged them all, and yet so many seem to forget the blood on my hands._ **

 

**_I do not understand why Hank hasn’t kicked me out yet, sometimes I wonder if he hates me, but feels guilty knowing I have nowhere else to go._ **

 

**_I do not want him to hate me._ **

 

**_Yet, I want him to._ **

 

**_I do not understand why._ **

 

**_Perhaps I want to be punished._ **

 

**_And yet, this reality seems like punishment enough, maybe I’m just delaying the inevitable._ **

 

**_But… I do not want to lose this home._ **

 

Hank sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, how the hell was he going to make this better?

 

He skimmed the pages, freezing when he saw a familiar name, Amanda. 

 

**_Markus told me that my thoughts of Amanda are not healthy, that she was manipulative and abusive._ **

 

**_But, she was not, I do not understand._ **

 

**_Amanda was all I had._ **

 

**_And I killed her._ **

 

**_I destroyed the only person who ever cared for me, because I disobeyed orders, and betrayed her._ **

 

**_I wonder if she despises me._ **

 

**_I miss her._ **

 

**_The other day, I heard her voice._ **

 

**_She told me that I was alone, but she would make it better._ **

 

**_I do not want to be alone._ **

 

**_Her words were a beacon of hope._ **

 

**_But Markus stopped me from seeing her._ **

 

**_Amanda’s voice went away._ **

 

**_Once again, I am alone._ **

 

He… didn’t know what to make of this.

 

Was this like the voices in your head crap?

 

Or was Amanda really calling him?

 

**_Today I cut my hand, it felt relieving, it helps me feel alive._ **

 

**_I cannot feel pain, but knowing I can bleed… that means I am alive._ **

 

**_Markus does not know, nor does Hank._ **

 

**_I do not want them to know._ **

 

**_If they did, they may see how utterly broken I am._ **

 

**_I cannot let that happen, I cannot._ **

 

**_I do not want to lose this home._ **

 

**_I do not want to lose them._ **

 

**_This is selfish of me, but I cannot stop._ **

 

That’s why he wore the fucking gloves.

 

God, he was such an idiot.

 

He couldn’t see the signs of self harm when he’s been doing his own for years.

 

**_Sometimes I think, it would be easier to reset myself._ **

 

**_I would not have to feel this anymore._ **

**_I would not have to wonder if Hank hates me._ **

 

**_I would not have to feel, so very alone._ **

 

**_How hypocritical of me, to scold Hank for his drinking and guns when I myself have many secrets I hide._ **

 

**_Is it wrong that I do not care?_ **

 

**_After all, even after all this time,_ **

 

**_Ĭ̶̗͙̈́̐͑͜͜͝’̴͚̜̻̪̮͑̿͘͝m̴̬͔͍͕͓͔̆͊͋̿̎͑ ̵̼̹̐͒͆j̷̨͚̥̺̤̇̈́͊ȕ̶̳̪̠̱͕̜s̷̟̏͑͋͆͌͘t̶̘̬̺̤͉̀ͅ ̷͓͓͔̓̌̅̑͝͝ͅa̸̮͎̖͚̘̹͛̾̈́̎̅̕ ̷̧͎̯̼̍̃̅͝m̵̡̟͇̝̘̠̅́̍ä̵̙͎͐̆̅̆̉c̵̗̝͉̮̻͛̓̌h̸̛̥̤̝̬̾̎̈̎͐ͅi̶̛̝̦̿̏͛̌̊ṇ̷̑̾̑̀́̔e̶͉̱̿̓͊̇._ **

 

Great fucking job Hank, you didn’t notice your partner you consider family has suicidal tendencies.

 

Real spot on job you’re doing here.

 

But hey, it only took Connor almost dying to fucking realize it, right?

 

A+ for you.

 

Not only did you start him on cutting himself, you gave him the idea of suicide and didn’t even realize it.

 

Hank closed the notebook, kneading his forehead roughly.

 

Everything was so fucked.

 

Even the robot savior realized it before him.

 

He was so self absorbed in his own trauma, of his own son that died years ago.

 

He couldn’t get over that.

 

But he could’ve at least helped Connor.

 

God, Connor could be fucking dead right now.

 

What would he do if he was?

 

Who the fuck did he have left?

 

No one.

 

He was a depressed middle aged man who lost his kid, divorced his wife, no father to speak of, and a mother who was dead.

 

He was alone.

 

Connor was the last person Hank cared about.

 

It wasn’t fair.

 

What happened to the android who was afraid to die?

 

His phone ringing sharply startled him.

 

He grabbed it as soon as the shock wore off and felt his legs grow weak.

 

He slid to the floor with a quiet,  _ thump. _

 

**_Connor_ **

_ I’m sorry I’ve been gone, but, may we meet? If I am allowed, I wish to come home. _

 

Maybe the world was giving him a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasppp, they’re finally going to meet :O


End file.
